


The Interview

by MyLittleElphie



Category: Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-17 16:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12369861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLittleElphie/pseuds/MyLittleElphie
Summary: Glinda has a job interview at a big bank, but somehow luck simply doesn't seem to be on her side. Although she doesn't get the job, the consequences of this one short interview turn out to be more far-reaching than she could possibly have imagined. Modern AU. Gelphie.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! :D
> 
> I'm not exactly a novice writer, but I'm new to this platform and I'm therefore extra grateful for everyone who is willing to give this story a go.  
> As of today (15/10/17), the story has three chapters that are already published on Fanfiction.net. I will upload them on this site one at a time, every two days. Once I'm up to speed with the old chapters, I will post new ones simultaneously on FanFiction.net and on here (Most likely from ch. 5 on). 
> 
> The first chapter of this story used to be a lighthearted One-Shot, but due to many requests, I continued the story. It will turn out quite a bit more emotional than originally planned, so be prepared for some sobs or sniffs along the way.
> 
> I really hope you will enjoy this story!  
> xxxMLE :3

**Chapter One**

Glinda swallowed hard as she stepped through the revolving door and into the marble and gold-plated foyer of TMB. The hand holding the strap of her purse tightened, freshly manicured, cotton candy pink nails digging into the soft leather. This place was way out of her league. She'd been aware of this when she'd sent in her application. She had not expected a reply, let alone an invitation to an interview. Not really. Yet despite all odds, her phone had rung only two days later, and a young voice with a posh accent had informed her that Mister Tenmeadows was expecting to see her first thing on Wednesday. Initially, Glinda had only managed to nod, but a concerned  _'hello?'_  from the other end of the line had quickly reminded her that she would have to give some sort of verbal confirmation. She'd stuttered a few words of understanding and hung up as soon as possible. After that, she'd collapsed onto her couch, lying immobile for what had seemed like hours.

She'd tried to convince herself that it was her CV that had impressed the manager of the biggest bank in Gillikin, but she suspected that she probably owed the appointment to the charming photo she had attached to her letter – which was an achievement in its own right, of course, yet she much preferred being acknowledged for what was inside her head. But nothing of that mattered now. She was here, and she had to take this chance. If it was her looks that had gotten her this far, so be it. Surely, she would have plenty of opportunities to convince her co-workers and her boss of her competence once she had managed to secure this job.

Glinda nodded to herself. A small gesture of self-encouragement. She quickly scanned the floor and found an information counter next to the lift area. Her chin high and a confident, but sweet smile on her lips, she approached the uniformed lady behind the glass desk.

"Good morning," she said in her most pleasant tone of voice. "My name is Upland, and I have an appointment with Mister Tenmeadows."

The young woman returned her smile with a sharp look. Glinda almost felt like she was giving her a critical once-over. A hint of insecurity crept its way back into her head, and her lips twitched for a moment. The woman mercifully decided to do her job and checked her computer.

"Take the third lift up to the sixth floor and let the receptionist know that you have arrived. She will inform you as soon as Mister Tenmeadows is ready to see you."

She didn't even look up from her screen. Glinda thanked her a little too stiffly and turned away. Waiting for the lift, she released a little sigh.

Upon her arrival on the sixth floor, a cleaner pointed her in the direction of the reception, which was located in front of an unexpectedly cosy-looking waiting room.

"Mister Tenmeadows is still in a meeting," the brunette replied to Glinda's introduction and offered her a coffee.

Surprised, Glinda accepted the hot beverage and took a seat. Over the rim of her paper cup, she watched the woman busily typing away on her keyboard. At least she had been more welcoming than the bimbo downstairs.

After a few minutes, her stomach began to churn. The waiting seemingly had stirred up her nerves again and at a second thought, adding caffeine to the mix might not have been the best of ideas. She distracted herself by watching the people rushing through the hall outside the room. She couldn't help but notice, that the majority of the employees appeared to be attractive, young women. Ridiculously attractive, young women. This could hardly be a coincidence. Very suspicious.

"Miss Upland?"

Glinda's head snapped up.

"Mister Tenmeadows is waiting for you in his office."

The blonde blinked, and the receptionist laughed lightly. "Top floor, the room to the right. You can't miss it."

Nodding and smiling nervously, Glinda made her way back to the lifts.

She heard quick footsteps coming up behind her, and only seconds later, something collided hard with her shoulder. Outraged, she wanted to call out to the rude person pushing past her, but all that left her mouth was a high-pitched squeak. She stopped to stare at her hand holding the cup of coffee. Dark drops were running down the cup and her hand, dripping to the floor. The cleaner who had been so helpful earlier, discontinued his work on one of the huge windows to glare at her.

Glinda's head flushed red; out of embarrassment at first, then out of anger. "Excuse me,  _Miss_!"

The tall, raven-haired woman by the lift panel slowly turned and the colour of Glinda's face turned from vivid scarlet to ashen white. It wasn't the condescending look the woman cast her, nor did Glinda notice the catastrophic colour clash between her striped, aubergine suit and her red heels. What really left her speechless, was the green discolouration of the woman's skin. All Glinda could do was to wonder, what tragic accident could possibly have caused this terrible defect.

The green woman rolled her eyes, and Glinda pulled herself together. She somehow guessed, that the poor thing must have seen this kind of reaction many times before. Awkwardly, she lowered her gaze, which then once again fell on her coffee-coated hand. And her blouse. While she had been staring at the strange woman, the liquid had begun soaking through the white fabric.

"Oh no!" she cried out in alarm, and the woman who was responsible for the disaster stepped closer.

"Oh. I apologise," she said in an apathetic sort of tone. "I didn't see you there."

Glinda pressed her lips together and clenched her free hand to a tight ball. Yes, she certainly was on the shorter side as far as height was concerned, but tall people claiming they didn't see her, were the absolute height of insolence. She was about to open her mouth and give vent to her frustration, when the green woman unceremoniously shoved a tissue towards her.

"You're here for an interview?"

Dumbfounded, Glinda took the tissue and bobbed her head.

"There's a bathroom on the tenth floor. You could try washing out the stain there."

Glinda knew, that there wasn't enough time for that, but luckily, she'd come prepared. Dangling off her arm was a black paper bag. Inside, was a silky shirt that she'd packed for later - her second interview of the day. Surely, slipping into the bathroom for a quick change wouldn't take too long. The  _ding_  of the lift sounded, and the doors opened. Too preoccupied with her recovery plans, Glinda didn't even bother complaining to the green woman and simply followed her into the lift.

Glinda's eyes were glued to the small display as the numbers changed from level to level. When two men entered the lift on level eight just to get to the next floor, an annoyed huff escaped Glinda's lips before she could hold it back. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see the other woman arch a slim eyebrow. She wondered when  _she_  would get off, eager to get rid of the awkward feeling she had around her.

The doors closed, and Glinda's attention returned to the display. The number was just about to roll over, when the lift suddenly stuttered to an ungentle halt. Losing her balance, Glinda stumbled and almost fell. A firm hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up. Her heart nearly stopped; the rush of adrenaline made her cheeks blush. She released a long breath and looked up into dark, brown eyes.

"You're okay, blondie?"

For a moment there, Glinda had felt almost drawn to those deep, admittedly beautiful eyes, even forgetting all about the green skin surrounding them. But the little nickname the other woman had bestowed on her immediately snapped her out of it.

"Th-thanks. I'm… I'm fine," she mumbled, slightly affronted, yet trying not to let it show.

Averting her eyes, she staggered to her feet and tugged her skirt and shirt back in place. She wasn't quite sure why, since she was headed for the bathroom anyway. Looking back up, she spotted the number ten on the display and released a breath of relief. Suddenly, she realised the doors weren't opening.

"What? What's happening?" she almost squeaked as she walked up to the doors to lightly tap them with her palm.

In her corner, the green woman leaned against the mirror, folding her arms.

"The lift is stuck. Happens every now and then. This is an old building and the lifts haven't been replaced in a while. Some shit about them being antique and all that."

As an architecture minor, Glinda had immediately noticed the period design of the lifts; however, seeing as the TMB was in no financial troubles, she had expected them to be modern replicas. Now, knowing that this was not the case, her stomach knotted at the thought of two hundred years old, rusty wires pulling the weight of at least half a ton.

"Don't worry, blondie, Avaric will be notified about the lift. He won't hold it against you when you're late for the interview."

The interview! Desperate, Glinda tried the doors one more time. Her eyes briefly flicked to her impeccable fingernails, before she wedged her dainty hand between the two wooden boards.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the cool voice from the corner came again. "If we didn't stop exactly at the tenth floor, you could plummet all the way down to the underground car park."

Alarmed, Glinda took a few steps back.

"If you're so used to this… How long does it usually take until someone comes to fix it?"

The green woman shrugged her shoulders.

"This old thing needs a specialist. If he's not in the building, it might take him like forty minutes or so to come in from his workshop."

Glinda moved further back, until her back met the wall.

"Oh no, oh no! This can't be happening! First the coffee, then this! Why me? Why today?"

"Bad karma?" the other woman offered.

Glinda shot back a glare. If one of the two of them had some sort of bad karma, it would be  _her,_  she thought. But she didn't say it. After all, she still wanted the job, and if that mean, green thing were to say anything to her colleagues later…

To distract her thoughts from the myriad of insults popping into her head, she checked her watch. How long had it been already? Time always felt slow when one was held up somewhere, but she guessed it couldn't have been longer than five minutes.

Time ticked by at an excruciating pace. The only noise in the lift was the impatient tapping of Glinda's foot. The woman in the corner wasn't saying or doing much, and Glinda didn't feel like making small talk either. After stealing a few sneaky looks, she had decided, that the green wasn't too bad once one got over the initial shock. But that didn't take away from the woman's rude disposition. Then again, Glinda wondered whether she was simply somewhat socially awkward. But should that count as an excuse?

Twenty minutes later, Glinda had an epiphany. As soon as she was freed from the lift, she would have to rush to her appointment. There would be no opportunity to change in between. But since she had nothing better to do now, it would probably be for the best, if she used the time and fixed her little problem with the stained blouse. She shot the other woman a shy glance. Oz, this would be awkward.

It took her another three minutes of fiddling with her paper bag, until she found the courage to go through with her plan. She took out the shirt and draped it over the railing on the wall of the lift. She turned around and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her blouse before pulling it over her head. As she did so, her gaze met the mirror – and those dark brown eyes belonging to a certain green woman. She looked away, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising. Usually, she didn't mind changing in front of others when she went to the public pool or to the fitness studio. But this was different. The entire situation was wrong. This green woman was  _wrong_. Something about her made Glinda feel uneasy and unsettled. She couldn't point her finger at it. She quickly grabbed her silky shirt, slipped her arms through the sleeves and buttoned it up in record time.

A tug here and a pick there, and she was presentable again. When she hesitantly shuffled back around, the other woman was staring blankly at the doors, twisting her long hair around her left forefinger. Glinda watched how it uncoiled and fell back down, just as straight and sleek as it had been before. The green woman picked another strand and repeated the process. For some odd reason, Glinda couldn't take her eyes off her. She even was about to comment on it, when a loud banging against the doors interrupted her train of thought.

"Hello? Is someone in there?"

The blonde whirled around and threw herself against the wooden doors. "Yes! There's two of us! Please get us out of here!"

Glinda heard something that might have been the muffled sound of two male voices; then, the man that had spoken before warned her: "Step back from the doors, Miss. I'm going to open them now."

Relieved, Glinda did as she was told.

When the doors finally opened, Glinda stepped outside with a happy bounce in her steps. She stopped in front of the technician and thanked him profusely. The green woman strode past them without a single word of thanks to the man or even a brief  _'Good luck'_  to Glinda. Glinda shook her head and watched her catching the next lift. She, on the other hand, had had enough of lifts for now and took the stairs. From the tenth floor, it was only three more levels.

When she arrived on the top floor of the building, she realised that the maze of corridors from the other levels had disappeared. Instead, there were two simple choices: to the left, a sign indicated that the seemingly empty office belonged to various secretaries and coordinators; the right sign read in bold capital letters 'AVARIC TENMEADOWS.' Glinda drew a nervous breath and rung the tiny bell next to the glass door. Upon hearing the melodic sound, the manager's secretary looked up from her files and pressed the release button.

Glinda was immediately rushed into the adjoining office, but the room turned out to be empty. The blonde took a double take and cast an almost panicky look at the secretary.

"Just take a seat," the woman murmured, before she went back to her work.

Ever so slowly, Glinda let the strap of her purse slip off her shoulder, placing her handbag and the paper bag on the floor. She lowered herself into the huge leather armchair in front of the polished quoxwood desk, just as hesitantly. In fact, her bottom had barely touched the soft leather, when the door on the other side of the room burst open, and a tall, blond man, followed by two women, entered. "Good morning," he said enthusiastically.

Glinda jumped to her feet and was about to reply, when she realised that she had already met the skinny, green woman, who took the seat to Mister Tenmeadows' right.

"Yes, I know," Mister Tenmeadows chuckled. "She looks like a walking, talking green bean, but she's harmless."

She nodded slowly, and Mister Tenmeadows extended his hand towards her.

"Miss Glinda Upland, I suppose? You are applying for the position of financial analyst?"

"Yes," Glinda replied after a brief pause. She forced her lips to curl into a small smile and took the manager's hand.

"May I introduce Shenshen Minkos, Head of Accounting and Elphaba Thropp, my HR manager."

* * *

 

After they had overcome the initial bump in the road, the interview went smoothly, but Glinda simply couldn't shake the feeling, that Mister Tenmeadows wasn't quite warming up to her. He was polite and even made a few jokes, but the chemistry somehow didn't seem right. Miss Minkos was quiet throughout most of the conversation, as was Miss Thropp, but every now and then, Glinda risked a brief glance at the green woman, and whenever she did so, it seemed like Miss Thropp was studying her very carefully, with her lips slightly pursed and her eyes narrowed. Of course, it was to be expected that the human resource manager would size up any potential new addition to the team critically, but somehow that look in those brown eyes was a little too intense for the blonde's liking.

Altogether, the meeting couldn't have lasted longer than twenty minutes, but to Glinda it had felt like eternity. Once everything had been discussed, Mister Tenmeadows excused himself and disappeared into the other room, together with his staff. When he reappeared, he was alone and the look on his face immediately caused Glinda's heart to clench.

"Miss Upland," he began and already knowing what he was about to say, Glinda wanted nothing more than get out of her chair and leave right there and then. "I appreciate that you took the time to come by today. Your CV and your references are very impressive, but I'm afraid, we are looking for someone with a little more experience. This is not your fault, of course. Given that you finished university merely four years ago, your resume is outstanding. Perhaps, you could try again in a few years."

Glinda thanked him for his time, and the two shook hands. She left the office with her head held high, but as soon as she stepped into the lift to make her way back downstairs, her shoulders slumped. She chided herself for taking this rejection so seriously. After all, this had been a hopeless attempt from the very beginning. She should consider herself lucky that she had gotten this far. She took out her phone. Her mum had sent her seven new texts.  _'Didn't get it,'_ was her simple reply.

On the eleventh floor, the doors opened. Together with a man, that was either an extremely short Gillikinese or a rather tall Munchkin, Elphaba Thropp entered the lift, and Glinda stiffened immediately. She tried to avoid meeting the other woman's eyes, but couldn't help but risk another glance.

The Thropp woman caught her gaze.

"I think I owe you a cup of coffee," she said in a weird, almost demanding tone. Glinda blinked. "I mean, since it was sort of my fault that the other one spilt."

"True," Glinda answered, not knowing what in Oz had come over her. "I suppose that sounds fair."

Elphaba led her out of the building and to a small coffee shop across the street. They ordered their coffees, and Elphaba insisted on sharing a slice of chocolate cake.

"This stuff is better than the crap at the office anyway," the green woman noted, while contently sipping her unsweetened, black beverage.

Glinda smiled shyly.

"It is. And the cake is absolutely divine. So, thanks."

"I'm sorry you didn't get the job," said Elphaba as she stabbed the cake with her fork to break off a piece. "You know, that was actually my fault, too."

Glinda almost knocked over her cup.

"W-what?"

"I told Avaric your boobs were fake."

Suddenly, it felt like someone had dropped a bomb in the middle of the small café, and everything and everyone had fallen silent in mortified anticipation. When Glinda finally found her voice, it wasn't cooperating as well as it usually did, and her stammered words were barely above a whisper.

"Y-you… Wha-?  _Why?_ " She looked away, almost as though she were looking for an escape route. Unable to flee, she looked up to the green woman again, meeting her surprisingly soft eyes. "Why in Oz would you do such a thing and what-"

"It was a trick," Elphaba interrupted her. "The Coffee. Avaric makes me do this every single time he interviews cute, young girls. There are cameras in the lifts, and he likes to inspect the goods first before he hires." She grimaced slightly, throwing Glinda an apologetic look. "He's a sick bastard," she said matter-of-factly.

The shorter girl on the opposite end of the table was lost for words. This all sounded too ridiculous to be true and yet, this was not the first time she had heard such a story.

"Anyway," Elphaba continued tentatively, "I figured this wouldn't be the safest environment for you to work in. Pfannee and Shenshen don't seem to mind at all – I think, they actually appreciate the opportunities he offers them in return for… certain kinds of  _favours_." She looked directly into Glinda's eyes and tilted her head. "You on the other hand; I don't think you'd make it far here."

Glinda didn't know what to feel. Part of her was appreciative, for Elphaba was probably quite right in her judgement. But what gave this presumptuous woman the right to decide such matters for her? She was old enough and her own person. She didn't need a complete stranger to mollycoddle her.

"So, you saved me?" she huffed indignantly. "Oh, how valiant of you." Shaking her head in disbelief, she pushed her cup of coffee aside and made to grab her bags. "Thanks for your thoughtfulness, Miss Thropp," she continued pointedly while sorting out the tangle of straps and handles, "But I can take care of myself. I don't need-"

Wordlessly, Elphaba had placed an intricate, black ring with three black roses on the table. Glinda's hand released the bags, and she eased back into her chair, staring at the tiny object.

"I think you lost this in the lift," the other woman said after a couple of awkwardly silent seconds.

Glinda didn't look up.

"You… you know what this is," she concluded after considering what Elphaba had done, and why she had used the ring in this very moment. A thought occurred to her and her eyes jumped to Elphaba's right hand to inspect it, half expecting to find a similar ring. But there was none. She looked up, puzzled.

"I know this sort of stuff because of my brother. He sleeps around a lot to hide it, that idiot, but underneath that shallow façade, he's ace as fuck."

Glinda nodded her understanding. Hesitantly, she reached for the ring and slipped it onto her right middle finger.

"Well… thank you… Although I'm not sure if I appreciate your intervening."

"You will," Elphaba replied in the most confident manner she had shown up until then. "As soon as you found a better job."

The two women finished their cake and drinks in silence. Only when they had nothing else left to do except for waiting for the waitress to bring the bill, Glinda spoke again.

"Why do you even work for that guy, if this Avaric is such a dick?"

Elphaba snorted a laugh.

"What do you think, how many job offers a green girl gets? I'm only here because his father owed my great grandfather a favour. And I'm sick of working in warehouses and restaurant kitchens. True, he is a despicable piece of shit and he indulges in taunting me every other day… But this is the first job in my life that sort of allows me to make use of my capabilities."

"And you made it your mission to help poor, unsuspecting damsels in distress, who were foolish enough to apply for a job there," Glinda pointed out.

Elphaba grinned.

"Not exactly. So far, most girls didn't seem to be in need of any saving. As sad as it is, there are people, who are actually made for this kind of environment. And I've never come across any other applicants who were ace before."

Chewing her lip and twisting the ring on her finger, the short blonde mulled over how to deal with Elphaba's slightly patronising attitude. She didn't really fault her. In a way, she found it almost cute how concerned this woman was about someone she didn't even know. In the end, she decided to let it go and instead try and turn the tables on the conversation.

"And what are  _you_?" she asked, a challenging smirk on her lips. "A lesbian? Bi?"

Although it was a daringly personal question, her opposite merely cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, you don't strike me as a het."

Glinda put her elbows on the table and cradled her head in her hands, patiently waiting for an answer.

"Why is that?" Elphaba finally gave in and asked. "Because that would be too normal for a green person?"

Glinda's face fell and she let her hands drop.

"No," she replied, exasperated. "Miss Thropp, do you attribute everything in your life to the colour of your skin?" She sighed. "No… I… It was just a guess."

A tram passed close to the window and Glinda used it as an excuse to avert her eyes for a moment. Once it was out of sight, she returned her attention back to her company, blushing as she did so.

"Who knows… maybe I sort of want you to be gay."

Elphaba frowned, then huffed.

"I don't do labels."

Clearly not satisfied with that answer, Glinda pouted.

"If you're trying to ask what sex I'm interested in, I suppose you could say I have no preference."

Glinda's eyes lit up, and a cocky grin appeared on her lips, because she saw her suspicions confirmed.

"In short, you're pan!"

"I'm a woman of limited options," Elphaba shrugged. "I might as well take whatever opportunity presents itself."

Giggling sillily, Glinda struggled to speak.

"This isn't really your reason, is it?"

"No. Do  _you_  have a reason for not being interested in anyone at all?"

The giggling stopped abruptly. The blonde collected herself and cleared her throat.

"Well, but I am," she corrected her, playing with her ring again. "Just not really in a sexual way."

Coincidentally, she noticed the time on her wrist watch.

"Oh shit!" she exclaimed and jumped up, hurriedly collecting her things. "Shit! Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Elphaba asked, worriedly.

"My next interview is in twenty!"

"Where?"

"305 Ozma Street." Glinda had finally managed to sort out her bags and was ready to say goodbye to the green woman.

"Forget it, blondie. You won't make it."

Glinda's nostrils flared. She hated how confusing Elphaba Thropp was. She was insolent and infuriating. But on the other hand… she somehow enjoyed her company.

"Of course, I will," she shot back, flippantly tossing her curly hair over her shoulder.

"Not in those heels, you won't."

"You watch me, greenie!"

Elphaba's straight, thin lips twitched into a smirk. Glinda replied with a wide grin that was meant to simultaneously say  _'thanks,' 'nice meeting you'_  and  _'goodbye'_  and turned towards the exit.

However, following an inexplicable impulse, she turned on her heels and rushed back to the table where Elphaba was just about to settle the bill.

"Pen. Notepad," she said as she placed each item on the tabletop, right in front of a confused Elphaba. "Write down your number," she clarified curtly.

"What?"

"Write down your number," Glinda reiterated, impatiently. "I want to see you again."

Elphaba looked up to her, eyes wide. She began to write, obviously still uncertain about what was actually happening. She pushed the paper and the pen back in the direction of their owner.

"And I thought, I did a rather good job at turning you off," she half-grumbled under her breath.

Glinda smiled timidly as she tossed everything into her purse. "Well, maybe I'm grasping at straws here, but as a woman of limited options…"

Laughing, Elphaba watched her as she turned around for a second time, this time actually leaving the coffee shop. Glinda felt a strange rush as the blood pumped hot through her veins; then, her stomach dropped. No five meters away from the café, she pulled the notepad out of her bag with a shaking hand and double-checked the number. It appeared legit, and she released a deep breath of relief. Once people knew she was asexual, they came up with all sorts of tricks to get rid of her. But Elphaba seemed fine. Right now, she was terribly broke, but once she got a job and her first paycheck, she'd definitely invite her for lunch.

Nearby, the clockwork of the Time Dragon Tower chimed. Fifteen more minutes. She had to hurry now, or otherwise Elphaba would end up being right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, you made it all the way to the end of chapter one! I hope that means you will tackle the next one as well!
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to add a few concluding words...  
> Some people might not be familiar with the vocabulary, so here a quick note on that:  
> "Ace" refers to "Asexual" - a person who does not experience sexual attraction. (As a side note to the side note: Asexuality is also regarded as a spectrum and while some aces don't experience sexual attraction at all, there are others, such as Demisexuals or Grey/Gray Asexuals who experience it to a certain degree, but less than your average sexual person.
> 
> About the ring:  
> Some aces like to wear a black ring on their right hand so that other aces recognise them.
> 
> While many readers might be familiar with a lot of LGBTQA+ themes, asexuality still tends to be a bit less known, so if any questions pop up along the way, never hesitate to ask! My primary aim is to share a good (I desperately hope) story, but if I can add some education to the mix, that's cool with me ;-P
> 
> So thanks again and hopefully see you again soon!  
> xxx MLE <3


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter two**

It was only a few minutes shy of eight o’clock, when Glinda at long last shut and locked the door of the office building that housed the small financial brokerage firm she was now working for. It was still bright enough, but that didn’t make her feel any less worn-out. As the most junior member, still in the process of familiarising herself with clients, the local market and other specifics, she stayed behind on a nearly daily basis, even though most her colleagues had left hours ago. All beginnings were hard, she knew. It would pass, she hoped and straightened herself, adjusting the strap of her handbag.

The next stop was only around the corner, and she was lucky enough to catch the tram that had just arrived. Sitting down, she melted into her seat. Her lids grew heavy, tempting her to close them for but a moment. Her flat, however, was only a couple of minutes away - too easy to miss if she didn’t pay attention. Distracted, she reached for the key in her bag. As she pulled it out, she also found a chewing gum and a tattered piece of paper. The writing on it had rubbed off a little over the last few weeks in her overcrowded purse, yet she didn’t need to read the name above the ten-digit number to remember what it said.

She sighed. She popped the chewing gum into her mouth, held the key firmly in her left hand, but let the note drop back into the bag. After more than two months at her now not-so-new-anymore work place, the promised lunch was terribly overdue. There was no easy explanation for her reluctance to meet up, after she had been so enthusiastic back then, asking for a phone number she was perhaps not going to use after all. Settling in after getting the job had been stressful, of course, but it wasn’t like she had never left the house since then. In fact, going out with friends had been one of the best ways for her to put work off her mind whenever possible. A female voice announced the next stop through the speaker system, and Glinda was a little startled to recognise the name of her street. She pulled herself up with the help of the handrail next to her seat, absolutely ready to kick off her heels.   

Peace and quiet was all she longed for when she finally set foot into to the kind of stylish, yet also rather clattered apartment. Unfortunately, her flatmates Tibbett and Crope around, peace and quiet were in rare supply. The first greeted her from the kitchen on the other end of the narrow entrance hall; the latter ambushed her before she could even take off her shoes.

“Hey Glin!” he cried, bumping into her and bestowing a noisy kiss on her cheek. “You’re late, darling,” he remarked with an affected pout. “Did you remember bringing the spice mix Tibbs asked you to get from the Quadling store? He’s already almost finished cooking the sauce.”

Not appreciating such a boisterous welcome, Glinda stomped past him with an irritated flick of her blonde curls. She produced a brown paper bag from her purse and almost slammed it onto the kitchen bench before turning on her heels, headed for the bathroom. The door clicked shut, dipping the room in darkness. She didn’t bother flicking the switch; the little light that filtered through the narrow gap below was enough to find all she needed. The lack of visual stimuli was cathartic.

     A few minutes later, her mood had improved a little. She still tried avoiding the boys as best she could when she joined them in the kitchen to prepare a pack of instant noodles.

“Sweetie,” singsonged Crope, who was now sitting on the counter, legs dangling, “Who is” – he squinted as he tried to read – “El-pha-ba?”

Glinda’s head shot up. She nearly dropped her spoon, almost spilt her dinner.

Crope and Tibbett exchanged amused looks.

“A potential suitor?” Tibbett asked, his eyes twinkling cheekily.

“I thought I’d never see the day,” Crope added as he slid off his high perch to go and hug Glinda.

The blonde swiftly snatched the note from his fingers and freed herself from the unwanted embrace.

“Not your business,” she huffed, storming off and disappearing into her room.

Through the closed door, she heard giggles.  At the best of times, the couple were interesting, almost fun to share a flat with; and then there were those times, when she wished she had been willing to fork out enough to rent a tiny studio on her own.

Someone knocked on her door, prompting her to whirl around, exasperated.

“What?!”

“Your food,” Tibbett’s voice came from the other side.”

Glinda bit her lip and took a moment to make up her mind. In the end, she opened the door. She took the bowl and spoon from him, glaring at his grinning face.

She placed her dinner on the desk. The paper with Elphaba’s number, she pinned to her pink miniature cork board. There was a strange, uneasy feeling that spread through her tummy. It spoilt her appetite, but after hardly eating all day, she dug into her noodles anyway. From her experience, things usually only got worse when she ignored her body’s need for sustenance. Chewing, she took her laptop out of the top drawer. It was quarter past nine, but there was still work to be done.

One hour later, she was dissatisfied with the amount of work she had been able to complete. Too often, her gaze had drifted away from the screen and towards that distracting note on the wall. She capitulated and saved the file one last time before pushing down the lid of her computer. Perhaps, she should deal with this issue sooner rather than later. After all, it wasn’t a big deal, shouldn’t be a big deal. All she needed to do was to meet Elphaba as she had promised. It simply wouldn’t be fair toward Elphaba to make her believe that they could stay in contact without following through with it. Not to mention, something that day had made her _want_ to meet the green woman again. Although her impulsive choices were generally a matter of hit and miss, she felt that she shouldn’t ignore them, for better or worse.   

Lunch was no longer an option though. Much to Glinda’s dismay, Elphaba had ended up being right back then – whether it had been her impractical footwear, her sudden, inexplicable urge to ask for Elphaba’s number or the throng of people that had taken too long to move out of her way, she had ended up late for the interview, which had not impressed her potential employers. That might not have been the only reason, but since she had not been able to secure the job at 305 Ozma Street, even if they were to meet midway, it was impossible for her to do so within the one and a half hours of accumulated breaks she was allowed each day. Dinner was one alternative, the other was a weekend brunch. Somehow, taking time out of her private time seemed to make the meeting more intimate, more involved. Looking at it like that, made her even more anxious and this realisation, in turn made her feel ridiculous. She needed someone sensible to come around and set her straight. 

 

 

* * *

 

Her weekend was surprisingly quiet. Her supervisor had picked the worst possible time to give her ‘ _a few days’ rest,’_ leaving her with no work to occupy her thoughts with. Even Tibbett and Crope had gone out of town for a brief getaway with a group of friends.

On Saturday morning, she had every intention to make the day a good one, hoping she could make the positivity carry through until Sunday night and – if at all possible – all the way to the next week. As she prepared pancakes with berries and cream, her favourite songs blasted out of the boys’ expensive Hi-Fi system. The amount of effort, let alone the money she had invested in this breakfast was unusual for a Glinda breakfast for one. She finished preparations just in time for her favourite morning programme, so she parked herself in front of the TV, plate balanced on one hand, fork in the other.

However, this week’s episode turned out frustratingly boring. Half-way through, she went back to the kitchen to wash her dirty dishes. By the time she returned to the sitting room, the show was over, and she was not the least bit sorry for it. She picked up the remote and zapped from channel to channel, yet nothing tickled her fancy. She gave up.

Urgent buzzing and ringing almost immediately replaced the empty silence the from the switched off telly.  Hopeful, she jumped to her feet to retrieve her phone from her room. It was still beeping away when she picked it up from the desk, but there were only a bunch of notifications from her deal hunter app. She was about to miss out on nine – no, ten – amazing offers if she didn’t act quickly. She couldn’t care less.     

She went on to check her various social media accounts for updates. There were a few, but not enough to keep her occupied for long. When she looked up from the screen, pondering her next move, she once again found herself looking at the note with Elphaba’s number. The constant sight of it was irritating her more and more. It had to go. She ripped it off the cork board, ready to toss it out. She thought better of it though and quickly punched in the number to add it to her contact list. For a moment, she stared at the newly created profile. Phone in hand, number ready, she could simply get over and done with it now. Why not call Elphaba or at least shoot her a message?

Her attention shifted to the name right beneath Elphaba’s on the list. Almost relieved, she tapped Fiyero’s name to send her best pal a text. He replied barely five seconds later, and Glinda felt saved. A couple more messages later, it was decided that he would come over to keep her company.      

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re my knight in shining armour,” Glinda sighed gratefully as she opened the door to let Fiyero in.  

“I’m only here for the food,” he deadpanned. “My fridge hasn’t seen any stock in weeks and my purse is as empty as granny Tigelaar’s panties.”

Glinda crossed her arms, leaning against the wall.

“Well, I don’t have much more left than a soggy pancake.”

When Fiyero turned on his heels to leave, she grabbed him by the shirt to pull him back inside.

“Fine, we can order Pizza for lunch.”

“Convinced.”

While she busied herself in the kitchen, locating some juice that hadn’t gone off yet, Fiyero went through the flyer of the local pizza parlour that he had found pinned to the fridge.

“You _are_ hungry,” Glinda remarked, amused, as she placed a full glass before him.

He flashed her an impish grin.

“You thought I was joking?”

“Your parents still haven’t come around then?” she carefully probed in a suddenly much more serious tone of voice.

Shaking his head, he took his first gulp, almost as if the juice were alcohol and he was trying to drain his sorrows.

“Do you not have something stronger?” he asked.

Glinda huffed and rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you can still joke about it.”

“It’s called acceptance. You should try it sometime,” he recommended.

Noticing that he had already finished his glass, she swiftly moved to refill it. She didn’t like where this little banter was going. Consciously or not, he made her feel guilty, inferior even, whenever they discussed the fact that he had come out to his parents and suffered the consequences, while she had, so far, left hers in blissful ignorance. There was still a decent chance, she reasoned, that she could lead a life that would appear perfectly ordinary to her family, including a good looking, well-heeled husband and a child or two. Her motives were not at all of monetary nature. Right from the cradle, she had always been trained to please everyone, especially her parents, and was now too afraid of being a disappointment. The pain her dearest Mumsie and Popsicle would suffer was her first concern; how she herself would handle their withdrawal of love and adoration was something she generally chose not to ponder.

“You know that I respect you for being so honest with everyone,” she said after a moment of silence, offering him a brief smile. “But it’s not a requirement. My way of dealing with things is just as valid.”

He shrugged, then tilted his head.  “Will it make you happy though?”

“I am happy enough right now. Keeping my aceness from my parents is not what I’m currently losing sleep over.”

The last remark, subtle as it was, was not meant to slip out. She took a sip of her juice, hoping Fiyero hadn’t noticed.

But the great hunter had already caught scent.

“So, what _does_ make you lose sleep? You’re blushing. You don’t have a crush on someone, do you?”

She smacked him lightly, feigning playfulness, nervous because his wild guess had hit too close to the mark. Except that it hadn’t. Not really. At least, that’s what she told herself. She considered lying, simply to avoid the topic. But what use would it be?

In the end, she told him the entire story, leaving out not a single detail. Fiyero listened intently, delighted even, when she came to the part where Elphaba declared her familiarity with asexuality. By the time Glinda finished with how she had asked for the green woman’s number, he was on the metaphorical edge of his seat.

“So, when are you two going to meet up?” he asked, nudging her with his elbow.

Glinda lowered her gaze to avoid his excited look.

“We probably won’t. Now that I’m not working anywhere close to TMB, I simply don’t have the time to see her.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but even without looking up, she could feel his eyes boring into her.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” she quickly declared, waving her hands about. She snatched up their empty classes and dumped them into the sink.

“You’re stupid to let a chance like this slide,” Fiyero reprimanded her.

Glinda opened the tap.

“And what kind of chance are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. That depends on what you want it to be. She pretty much said that she would be open to dating you.”

That elicited a wry laugh from Glinda.

“Wow, you’re reading way too much into this.”

“And I don’t remember you ever saying that you’re only after guys,” he continued, undeterred.

“Fiyero!”

She turned around to cast him a warning look. 

“Well, at the very least, you could do with a friend.”

“I have plenty of friends,” she tossed out.

She was right, of course. There was a whole flock of girls Glinda could summon with a single text whenever there was a party in sight. She was somewhat popular. Fiyero knew them from one gathering or another. Few of them were to his taste.

“And how many of them are ace?” he wondered out loud.

Drying the glasses, Glinda walked over to him and shrugged casually.

“In real life?” She tapped her lips, pretending to give the question serious thought. “That’s just you, I suppose, and so far, I’ve survived just fine.”

“And how many of your friends even know that you’re ace?”

That question went unanswered.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else to talk to about this stuff?”

When there still was no reply, Fiyero decided to change the grave tone the conversation had assumed.

“You never know,” he said nonchalantly, “I might not be around forever. I might starve to death before the month is over.”

Glinda smiled despite herself.

“I shall spend every last penny I have on your upkeep,” she promised.

“Which reminds me: Can we have lunch early? My breakfast today didn’t consist of much more than a muesli bar.”

They considered getting the pizza delivered, but the service surcharge and Fiyero’s hunger forbade it. Walking the ten minutes to the pizzeria, they saved money and were able to choose flavours that were already done and ready for them to devour.

The rest of the day was spent reminiscing, watching ridiculous docusoaps on TV and laughing about them as well as watching online clips of concerts they regretted not going to – neither one had currently enough money left over to buy expensive tickets. The topic of Elphaba did not come up again until after dinner, when Fiyero was lying on the couch, idly going through Glinda’s phone, while she scoured the freezer for ice cream.

“Why are you so intent on avoiding that Elphaba?” he asked her seemingly out of nowhere. “ _You_ were the one who asked for _her_ number, if I remember that correctly.”

She paused and thought in earnest this time. Having been around Fiyero all day, she had finally begun to drop her guard and rekindle the trust they had shared back then when they had actually been a couple.   

“You know, I’d like to think that I’m just lazy, that I just can’t be bothered.”

Fiyero pulled himself up and leaned over the backrest of the couch so he could see her.

“But you’re afraid it’s something else,” he finished for her, and she shrugged tentatively. “Why are you suddenly afraid of putting yourself out there? That doesn’t sound like you?”

“Doesn’t it?”

A tense chuckle followed the nearly inaudible question.   

“Making friends always seems like a breeze for you. You’re not afraid of talking to people.”

Sighing, she pulled out the container of ice cream that she had spotted underneath Tibbett’s countless containers of frozen meals.

“You’re right. I don’t mind spontaneously engaging people. But this is different. It’s so… premeditated. It feels like it’s loaded with expectations. I don’t like that kind of pressure.”

“Is it because she knows your secret?”

“That, too, I suppose.”

“If you ask me, it sounds like she already has a pretty good idea of what to expect. Maybe it’s your own expectations that you’re worried about?”

“For that, I would first have to know what my expectations are,” Glinda replied, spooning some ice cream right from the container and into her mouth.

Fiyero grinned.

“So, you _are_ considering something beyond casual acquaintanceship?”

“Oh, what do I know!”

In her irritation, she plopped the ice cream out just a little too aggressively. Only about half of it made it into the bowls.

“Mhm… If you ask me, that attitude of yours only goes to show that, for whatever reason, you do care about seeing her.”

Fiyero disappeared behind the backrest again, while Glinda quickly cleaned up the mess she had made on the counter. When she came around to place the big bowls, filled with melting ice cream on the coffee table, she noticed him typing away rapidly on her phone.

“Fiyero?” she said apprehensively, her eyes narrowing. “What in Oz are you so busy typing? You could just connect to my Wi-Fi and use your own phone, you know?”

With an exaggerate flourish of his index finger, he tapped one last button before putting the mobile down on the table. For a second, Glinda stared at it suspiciously, then decided to let it slide. She made herself semi-comfortable in the stuffed chair opposite the couch, sitting on her folded left leg.

“You could stay overnight, if you like. I might even go so far and buy some eggs and sandwich bread tomorrow morning, so we can have a proper breakfast.”

Her phone buzzed and rang, and Fiyero quickly finished his desert.

“I shouldn’t overstay my welcome, he said abruptly, jumping up from the couch.”

Glinda blinked in confusion, watched him stride towards the entrance of the apartment, then intuitively looked at her phone. She stretched to reach for it.

_‘Monday is fine,’_ the curt text message read; the name of the sender was Elphaba. Glinda thought she might faint.

“Fiyero!” she cried, but behind her, the door already fell shut.

She jumped to her feet, rushed to the door and ripped it open. Fiyero was hurrying down the stairs, so she made to follow in her bare feet.

“Fiyero! What in goodness’ name possessed you to do that? Have you lost all your wits?”

“Sorry, Glin, but I’m just helping. You can thank me later.”

“You really crossed the line here! And how am I even supposed to meet her on Monday? I have work.”

They arrived at the main entrance. Fiyero stopped for a moment and allowed her to catch up with him. She was furious, of course. He, on the other hand, seemed unfazed.

“All you need to do,” he said as he tucked a blonde curl behind her ear, “is to call in sick.”

She slapped his hand away, but not too severely.

“I can’t do that. I could get in real trouble.”

“And who is to find out?”

Huffing, she averted her gaze. Fiyero gave her shoulder a light pat and left.

It took Glinda a few minutes to pull herself together and make her way back upstairs. Back in her flat, she stood in front of the coffee table, staring at her phone. Hesitantly, she picked it up and checked her messages. She made a mental note to implement some kind of lock function to prevent further disasters such as this.

Fiyero’s message to Elphaba was short and simple, asking her if she could do Monday lunch. Neither had suggested a time or location yet, though. Glinda took a deep breath and tapped the input field at the bottom of the screen.

_‘Great. How about twelve o’clock, same café we went that other time?’_

She pushed _/send/_ and chucked the phone on the nearby couch. What she needed now, was a long, hot shower.

 


	3. Chapter Three

    **Chapter Three**

Glinda was dressed as for an ordinary day at work. She herself couldn’t believe that she really had called in sick, only to have a quick lunch with Elphaba, and the last thing she wanted was for the green woman to find out about it. It was silly, immature, and it wasn’t even her own idea. Oh darn, Fiyero!

When the tram approached her usual stop, Glinda shifted in her seat. What if someone saw her? She had half a mind to jump up and get off, but the doors closed again before she could make up her mind to do so. Anxiously, she ran her fingers through her long curls and exhaled. It was too late anyway. Showing up at the office after calling less than two hours earlier would be too awkward. And what excuse would she give Elphaba?

Elphaba. The mental mention of her name brought on a bout of mild nausea. Glinda’s stomach couldn’t possibly be so in knots because of her? Well, it was reasonable enough to assume that her risky undertaking played at least part in it, but remembering her first encounter with Elphaba, Glinda also recalled the instable nature of her feelings throughout. It had been an experience of push and pull; whenever she had thought she disliked her contrary opposite, she had found something surprisingly endearing about her. And now, in very much the same way, she dreaded to see Elphaba again, about as much as she longed for it.

Half an hour later, the tram stopped at the terminus. The ten-minute break between its arrival and scheduled departure for the return journey was too long for Glinda to ignore her opportunity to alight. She drew a deep breath and gathered her belongings. Time did not allow for further stalling. She wasn’t late yet, but that could change quickly, if she didn’t set aside her indecision this very moment. There was no way she was going to give Elphaba any fodder for harassment. Luckily, the place she was headed for was just across the street.

Walking past the café’s large window, the short blonde hesitated. She couldn’t spot Elphaba anywhere. Perhaps, she was running late? What if she had decided not to show up? Would all the trouble and emotional turmoil turn out to have been in vain? The mere idea upset her, no matter how unfounded her sudden worries may still prove to be. 

She entered and asked for a table, when someone called her name. Startled, but instantly relieved, she looked around, until she noticed a green and black figure in the farthest corner. Feeling still a little jumped on, she tensely made her way past the other patrons.  

The slow pace allowed her to gauge the situation before she arrived at the table. Elphaba’s outfit was not as outlandish this time, and Glinda had to admit, that the simple black suit was indeed quite becoming on her. To her disappointment, however, the sleek, black hair had been forced into an austere bun. It made Elphaba look unnecessarily severe, considering her already sharp and prominent facial features.

“Hi,” she said and mustered a nervous smile.

Elphaba seemed amused.

“Good seeing you again, blondie.”

She fluttered her fingers in the direction of the empty chair, and Glinda took a seat.

“I admit, I was somewhat surprised when you actually contacted me. I thought you must have snapped out of your temporary madness and thought better of it.”

Tilting her head, Glinda crossed her arms.

“Well done, Miss Thropp. Barely one minute into our lunch, and I already can’t even figure out which of us you intended to insult.”

“It seems we are off to a good start then,” Elphaba laughed, almost cackled.

There was a brief pause, which Glinda purposefully tried to bridge by picking up a menu.

“Shall we order then?”  

Despite it being their busiest hour, the experienced café staff handled everything swiftly, and their food arrived within less than ten minutes.

“So, are you having fun at 305 Ozma Street?” Elphaba asked casually as she broke off a piece of bread to dip into her dish of olive oil.”

Glinda’s food almost went down the wrong pipe, causing her to clear her throat.

“I botched that interview, I think.” She took a sip of her water. “I ended up on the other side of town.” Watching Elphaba arching an eyebrow, she wondered, whether she had given away too much. Quickly, she added, “Which was lucky in a way. I feel that everything here is way more fast paced and high pressure than I expected. It was obvious, of course, that Frottica wouldn’t compare, but I still underestimated what working in the Emerald City would really be like. I think, in applying for a job with the TMB and the other inner city place, I really tried to bite off far more than I could chew.”

Elphaba nodded thoughtfully.

“As long as it all worked out for you.”

A feeble shrug. The money wasn’t quite good enough, despite the long hours, the co-workers were gruffer than she was used to, and she didn’t know whether she would ever get over her supervisor’s incompetence, not to mention his absurd filing system. Yet, there was no need ranting to Elphaba, who was entirely blameless in all of this and not nearly closely enough acquainted with her to suffer through such moaning, simply to do her a favour.

“I suppose, you managed to find a financial analyst by now?” she said instead, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Oh yes,” Elphaba replied, her face lighting up a notch. “We hired a Vinkun girl named Sarima. Now this time, Avaric bit off more than he will _ever_ be able to chew!”

Glinda’s curiosity was piqued – because she liked to think that Avaric was getting what he deserved, but even more so, because Elphaba seemed so unusually gleeful.

“That almost sounds like you had a hand in it,” she remarked with a lopsided smirk, and Elphaba waved her hand in pseudo-modest dismissal.  

“I suppose a little bit, seeing as it was I who encouraged her to apply for the job in the first place. I’d met her a few days prior at a seminar. Avaric thinks he is the greatest catch in the universe, but she won’t raise to the bait. She doesn’t suffer under his gross advances either; she deflects them with unmatched proficiency. I think, she actually gets off on shooting him down.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Glinda chuckled.

Elphaba had just opened her mouth to say something, when her phone rang. Throwing a glance at the display, she rolled her eyes and gave Glinda an apologetic look before picking up.

“What is it now?”

Glinda watched her get off her seat and walk towards the bathrooms. She didn’t seem to be saying much she could possibly have overheard though. She only looked rather put out. The call ended within less than two minutes, and when Elphaba returned to the table, she immediately reached for her jacket and bag. She urgently rummaged about in her satchel, until she found a few notes. She paused, looking at Glinda, who stared at her, absolutely puzzled. 

“Apologies,” she sighed, a grimace flashing across her face. Apparently, she was genuinely sorry. “I know, this was a rather brief appointment, but duty calls.”

She dropped the money on the table – enough to cover both bills. It made Glinda feel uneasy to have Elphaba treat her to something for the second time in a row. When she looked up, Elphaba was already about to leave.

“Elphie!”

Perplexed, the green woman stopped in her tracks. She half-turned to face her. Glinda gathered the cash and held it out towards her.

“You paid the last time we here; today it’s my turn.”

Elphaba considered her before eventually reaching for the money in the most reluctant manner.

“Are you sure?”

 “It’s only lunch.”

Glinda laughed easily, but made a mental note to eat toast for dinner until the week was over. 

Folding the notes and stuffing them in her pocket, Elphaba still held her gaze, working her mouth as if in thought.

“Are you free tonight?” she finally asked, taking Glinda by surprise. 

“To-tonight?”

In her mind, Glinda berated herself for sounding so shocked, especially when Elphaba flinched and began to retreat.

“Yeah… right… Monday. I guess that’s not the best timing when you have to get up early and all…”

It somehow felt wrong to end their meeting on such an awkward note, and thinking of all the trouble she had gone through to see Elphaba, Glinda was willing to put some more effort in making it worth the while.

“I don’t,” she blurt out quickly. “I mean, I don’t have to get up early. In fact, a client just called earlier. To cancel a meeting. I won’t have to be in the office before ten or so.”

The words had tumbled, rather than flowed out of her mouth, not at all convincing. She could even see it in Elphaba’s expression. It was so embarrassing.

In the end, Elphaba huffed in amusement and flashed her a small, lopsided grin.

“I’ll text you,” she promised in the way of a good bye and left.

Glinda watched as Elphaba disappeared through the doors on the other side of the café. Once the last inch of green skin was out of her sight, she slumped onto the table, head cradled in her hands. Why in Oz couldn’t she stop acting like a freaking idiot?

Seeing as she was about to pay for it all, Glinda made sure to finished her food. She even tried some of Elphaba’s fried tofu balls and decided that they weren’t even half bad. When the plates were more or less empty, she could feel the waiter eying her irritably, without a doubt wondering when she would be leaving at last. Truth be told, however, she had no idea what to do next. Elphaba’s invitation had been as vague as it had been surprising. The blonde only hoped that she wouldn’t be dragged into any kind of entertainment that required her to spend too much money. Likewise, she began to fret over what she was supposed to be wearing. Wouldn’t it be better if she went home to change out of her work ensemble?

* * *

 

Glinda didn’t end up changing, too anxious about the risk that passing her work stop twice more before the usual home time would entail. Instead, she found herself a cosy window seat in the nearby library, reading magazines and idly browsing through her phone. Four hours went by like that, until she received the long-awaited message from Elphaba.

_‘Done in fifteen. Meet in front of the café.’_

_‘K,’_ she replied and got off her seat to return the magazines.

Glinda had found herself a spot near the café from where she could easily observe the busy coming and going from the TMB building’s main entrance. She saw Avaric leave the complex, chatting with a female employee in customer service uniform. She made a face, imagining herself in the young woman’s place. Elphaba emerged not long after, her satchel looking considerably heavier than it had at lunch and an additional pile of materials clamped under her arm. Slowly, Glinda strolled to the precise location Elphaba had advised.

She busied herself with her phone, feeling that it was better to conceal the fact that she had been on the look-out for Elphaba. Somehow, her general impatience just didn’t seem quite appropriate. She heard the distinct sound of heels on pavement. Someone was quickly approaching her general direction, and she wondered whether the clicking sounds were matching the stride pattern of the very woman she was waiting for. Instead of checking to confirm, she remained still, finishing the news story she was reading.

“Thanks for waiting,” Elphaba greeted her once she was close enough.

Glinda casually looked up from her phone and smiled.  

“Hey,” she replied simply, closing the gap between them. “So, what’s the plan.”

“Dinner.” Elphaba looked away briefly, then back at Glinda. “At my place, if that’s okay.”

Although initially stunned, Glinda was rather pleased. Of course, she didn’t exactly know about people in general, but she herself at least avoided brining people to her home, her private space, unless there was a relationship of trust. Indeed, only few of her friends had ever seen the inside of her apartment – partially because Glinda often wasn’t sure how they would react to her eccentric flatmates. Whether Elphaba was equally protective of her territory was hard to say, but at any rate, she took it as a good sign. 

    She had half expected Elphaba to guide her to her car, but instead, they legged it. They followed the main shopping promenade for about ten minutes, then headed right, into one of the small, hidden alleyways. When they came out the other end, Glinda recognised the area. She had been here a while ago, purely to have a look. Architecture was a secret passion of hers and this particular style of the surrounding houses was rather rare and somewhat famous among local enthusiasts. They walked along Lower Mennipin Street for another five minutes, past series of very high-end vintage apartment buildings, and Glinda began to wonder, how much a human resource manager - even at a big bank - could possibly earn.

At last, they turned into the dooryard of a house that looked insignificantly smaller, but just as posh as most of the other neighbouring structures. Glinda noticed the number next to the door, but was puzzled by the absence of the usual panel of doorbells and nametags. Perhaps, she supposed, the main door usually remained unlocked, allowing visitors to enter before ringing whoever they intended to call on.

Her theory immediately fell through, when Elphaba stopped in front of the solid quoxwood door, dug through her satchel and finally fished out a bunch of keys. The door opened with a slight squeak to reveal a large entrance hall, entirely decorated with polished lime stone. There were neither lifts, nor apartment doors, and the extravagant winding stair case in the middle of the hall led to a gallery of family portraits. Glinda was gobsmacked into wide-eyed silence.    

“Yeah, sorry about the unnecessary pomp,” Elphaba apologised as she put her bag down and placed the pile of files, books and loose papers on a side table. She briefly rolled her shoulders and gave her neck a rub. “This is my family’s traditional Emerald City residence. I’m afraid it’s a bit much, but my father is too attached to it and refuses to move to a smaller or more practical place.”

Reverently, Glinda followed Elphaba inside. She had been wondering what these elaborate buildings would look like on the inside, but she had not at all guessed, that some of them could still be used as single family homes.  

“We used to own another heritage building – Colwen Grounds in Nest Hardings, Munchkinland,” Elphaba explained, probably mainly out of the need to break the silence. “It was actually much bigger and grander than this one here, with its own estate and everything. Terrible place. Anyway, the upkeep of such a great house is costly. At some point, my family was neither able, nor willing to pay for the upcoming restoration works. Following my great-grandfather’s death, we had it demolished.”

“What a pity,” Glinda murmured, slowly revolving on the spot to take in the exquisite stucco ceiling she had just discovered.

Had she looked, she would have seen Elphaba’s brows shoot up in surprise, followed by a slight smile tucking at the corner of her lips.    

“Well, how about I show you the rest of the house then?”

Glinda agreed eagerly, but soon felt a little bad about it. Elphaba was generous enough to show her almost every room, safe the family’s private rooms, but had little to say about any of them. She obviously was ill prepared as tour guide in her own home, and Glinda imagined how much she must have felt put on the spot.

The viewing took well longer than an hour. In the end, they moved back to the ground floor kitchen, and Elphaba began to prepare a quick noodle dish for dinner.

“It’s a beautiful house,” Glinda enthused and laughed, when Elphaba briefly turned around to frown at her. “Well, it does seem a little lonely. Is that what you hate so much about it?”       

“I dislike the opulence, the lavishness. The loneliness, I’m sort of on the fence about. It can be overwhelming at times, but also a true blessing at others.”

“Where is everyone else? Are you always the first to return from work?”

Elphaba shook her head.

“Most of the time it’s only my brother, Shell, and I. He generally does whatever and it’s hard to say when he might be home or not. My father found his vocation in traveling the world and recruiting new followers for the unnamed god.”

Noticing Glinda’s bewildered expression, she grinned.

“Yes, he’s an actual unionist minister. Shell and I find it hysterical, as we don’t believe. But my sister is another story; she follows him around, from country to country, despite her disability and all.

Glinda hesitated for a moment.

“Would it be very rude to ask, what kind of disability your sister has?”

“Well, you already asked,” Elphaba remarked dryly, and Glinda found it impossible to discern whether she was just making fun of her, or whether she was indeed offended. “She was born without arms,” Elphaba went on, matter-of-factly, not sounding upset at all. “Obviously, that makes many daily tasks problematic for her, and on top of that, she has difficulties keeping her balance. She bears it like a martyr though, so it only strengthens her devotion to my father’s god and his church.”

For a moment, Glinda wondered if the sister’s disability was at all associated with Elphaba’s skin condition or whatever it was. She pushed the thought aside, however. She realised, that in voicing her question, she might be touching on a particularly sensitive topic, especially since this was the first time she had ever heard of, let alone seen someone like Elphaba.

“It must be very difficult for your father to look after her when travelling,” she said instead. “Do you know their current location?”

“They are once again back in Quadling Country. Converting Quadlings seems to be my father’s true vocation, probably related to an old family friend that passed away years ago. It’s a tricky place to live for someone like Nessa - quite rural and inaccessible - but there’s also Nanny to help them out. She is dedicated to my sister’s care and also looks after father. Not that he really notices it at all.”

Dinner was finished, and Glinda helped Elphaba preparing the table. The food was simple, but highly edible, not to say delicious. When Glinda expressed the sentiment, Elphaba stared at her blankly, before shrugging her shoulders. Cooking well didn’t seem much of an achievement to her, while Glinda, who considered herself as very culinarily challenged, couldn’t hide her admiration.

Desert wasn’t homemade. They ate organic frozen cheese cake that just happened to be available. Glinda had watched Elphaba searching for goodies in her fridge and freezer, and had immediately felt incredibly jealous. Compared to the sparse and boring content of her own kitchen, this one was a true treasure cove.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” she gushed after licking the last bit of cake off her fork. “I shall not eat this well for months to come.”

Elphaba frowned at her.

“Is that some kind of diet you’re on?” she enquired.

Glinda couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a joke. She laughed a little, as it seemed the safest reaction either way.

“No, I haven’t been on any diets since my insecure teen years. I just have to make sure to keep my money together a bit, is all. My current job doesn’t pay super much, rent is expensive, and I freely admit to spending too much money on clothes and shoes.”

“Clothes over food. Some very healthy priorities.”      

The smile on the shorter blonde’s lips wavered. She had thought that this little truth about herself might divert Elphaba, but instead, she only looked concerned, maybe even disapproving.

“Well, I suppose I’ll clean up the kitchen now. You spoilt me all evening; I might as well try and repay you as much as I can.”

She jumped to her feet, but Elphaba reached for her hand and pulled her back down.

“There’s no need. We have no house staff these days, but a cleaner comes for one or two hours every day. It would be impossible to keep this huge place tidy otherwise. It’s enough if I load the dishwasher later.”

Glancing at Elphaba’s hand holding hers, Glinda nodded. Elphaba might have noticed and let go almost instantly. She got up herself now.

“Do you want some wine?”

“Not too much. I do need to get back home, eventually.”

Soon after Elphaba had left, Glinda’s phone vibrated. It was Fiyero.

_‘How was it, Babe? Disappointed you haven’t expressed your gratitude yet. Did something happen?’_

 She chuckled.

_‘I’m fine,’_ she replied.

She considered whether she could be bothered typing out some highlights of her day, but Elphaba returned too fast for her to even make a decision. She resolved to turn her phone on silent and slipped it back into her pocket.

The wine was good, although Glinda doubted she could really tell a cheap supermarket version from an expensive vintage quality bottle. Nevertheless, it was just as calming for her as any alcohol was, and with that comfy, warm feeling in her chest, she could soon sense herself relax into Elphaba’s couch.

“It’s interesting,” she began, pretentiously swirling the wine in her glass, in an unconscious effort to appear philosophical. “As a clergy man, I would expect your father to be quite conservative, but your family seems anything but. At least your brother is ace and you are pan. Did he ever flip out on you when you brought someone home he didn’t approve of?”

An amused scoff was the only answer she received at first, but a few moments later, Elphaba gave in to her inquisitive looks. 

“My father has a green devil for a child and a daughter with no arms. I believe, it never occurred to him, that his god might be cruel enough to punish him twice over.”  

“In other words, he doesn’t know?”

Taking a sip from her wine, Elphaba shrugged.

“Shell is playing his act hard enough to fool anybody, and I for my part am not expecting to shock him with any kind of relationship. Not anytime soon at the very least.”

Glinda offered her a sad smile. This was the most relatable part of Elphaba yet. She felt that it was now her turn to share something.

“My friend, Fiyero, came out to his parents as ace, and it didn’t go very well at all. His family is of an old royal Vinkun bloodline – not that that means much these days, but they are fairly conservative traditionalists, partially because of it, I suppose. Worst of all, he is an only child and much pressure rests on his shoulders to continue the line. Anyway, after supporting him through this experience, I have lost any hope of ever talking to my own parents about it. I can’t imagine their reaction would be much better.”

“Well, while I too am in line to inherit a title of sorts, nobody would ever expect me to reproduce an heir in order to carry on the family name.” Elphaba laughed awkwardly. “It’s generally assumed, that this ship sailed the moment I was born with green skin.”   

“The hue of your skin seems to be a very prominent theme when you talk about your relationship with your family,” Glinda observed. “Even though its impact on everyday life should be much less significant than the absence of a pair of good arms.”

Elphaba clenched her jaw and ground her teeth. She clearly was upset this time. Slightly panicked, Glinda tried to think of a way to backpaddle, but her mind went blank. Only clock-ticks later, however, the other woman’s expression softened, and she drew a calming breath.

“I suppose it shouldn’t, but it does. Physically, I’m as able as anyone, but being such a target for hate, ostracism and prejudice, I’m literally unrelatable, unlovable and undesirable. I have made my peace with it though, which makes it a lot easier. My father, on the other hand, decided to treat me as a burden, given to him by the unnamed god. It effectively prevents him from seeing me as a true human being.”

For Glinda, the wine suddenly wasn’t strong enough anymore. Too intense were the emotions evoked by Elphaba’s speech. She wondered, whether Elphaba ever used harder liquor to numb the pain hidden beneath her thick skin. Her wine glass seemed to suggest otherwise; it was still almost full.

Mood weighed down by the turn their conversation had taken, neither of them spoke much anymore, and the conversation was reduced to brief questions, followed by even briefer answers. Playing with her glass in her lap, Glinda noticed a flashing light shining through the fabric of her pocket. When she pulled out her phone and saw Fiyero’s name, she declined the call, but still felt reminded, that it was time to conclude her visit.

Elphaba offered, or rather, insisted on driving her home. She hesitated for no good reason, but eventually caved. Seated next to her in the car, she entered Fiyero’s address into the navigation system, pretending it was her own. It was easier to stay at his place overnight anyway, she reasoned, since he would otherwise call her later and not hang up, until he got every last detail out of her. She also hoped to avoid Crope and Tibbett’s probing questions and wild speculations. If she told them that she had spent the time with Fiyero, neither of them would probably become suspicious.  She sent Crope a message, just so they wouldn’t worry about her.

The car stopped right in front of Fiyero’s apartment building. Glinda unbuckled and noticed, with some surprise, that Elphaba did the same. They both got out of the car.

“Um, thanks for dinner,” Glinda said quietly, anxiously treading from one foot to the other. She needed Elphaba to leave before ringing Fiyero’s bell.

Elphaba rubbed her neck.

“I hope it wasn’t weird.”

“Not at all,” Glinda replied with a genuine smile. “And I hope, we can meet up again.”

“Sure.” Elphaba didn’t sound all that certain. “Text me when you’re free?”

Only belated, Glinda realised that Elphaba’s uncertainty was primarily grounded in her doubts concerning Glinda’s own commitment. She put on the brightest smile her tired brain and body could muster.

“Good night, Elphie.”

The weary smile turned into a delighted giggle in response to Elphaba’s astonished reaction.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Glinda’s alarm rang seven thirty in the morning. Still drowsy, she swiped the screen to silence the unwelcome noise before rolling over on her search for the bed’s edge. Instead of the way out, she found a warm body next to her. She stiffened. She tried to recall what had happened the previous night, but her brain was a mess. Ever so slowly, she moved her head to catch a glimpse of the person next to her. After a few sleepy blinks, her eyes eventually focused on Fiyero and pure relief washed over her. Giggling hysterically, she let herself fall back into her pillows and blankets.  

Fiyero propped himself up, quirking his thick, bold eyebrow.

“Funny dream?”

“No,” she replied, still laughing to herself. “Rather, a funny awakening.”

Smiling, Fiyero got out of bed to pull on an old t-shirt and some training pants.

“Waking up beside each other is an odd feeling, isn’t it? So familiar and still so bizarre.”

The giggles finally died down. 

“Yes, but that’s not even what I meant,” she said through a mighty yawn. “When I first woke up, I had a total blank out. For a moment, I had no idea in whose bed I had ended up.”

Suddenly, she found herself at the receiving end of a long, silent stare from Fiyero.

“Should I be worried?” he asked at last, already sounding concerned enough. “Is that something that happens quite frequently these days? Waking up in random people’s beds and not knowing what happened?”

Glinda groaned in mild frustration. 

“Not at all. That’s why it was funny that I even thought that that was what might have happened” she intoned, rolling her eyes. 

“Sure. I just hope that you’re being careful. I know about your plan.”

She assumed, he was referring to the _‘plan’_ that entailed a husband and children – a perfect family to help her present as the straight, _‘normal’_ girl her parents still thought she was.  

“I haven’t really even started on that yet,” she told him, hoping to calm him down. “And besides,” she added with a sassy grin, “you are the one who tries to hook me up with a green sexual omnivore.”

“Hey!” He raised both of his hands. “In my defence, I never advised you to get drunk with her. That’s just not playing it safe.”

“I wasn’t drunk!” Glinda shot back.

“You passed out on my couch just two minutes after you arrived, and I Oz damn know the scent of alcohol when I smell it.”

Their argument was interrupted by Glinda’s alarm that went off for a second time. This time, she cancelled it properly.

“I’ve had one glass of wine, no more. I was simply pooped.”

“From what?” Fiyero demanded incredulously. “From not going to work?”

“Thanks to you, _mister_ , I hardly slept a wink the night before. Do you even have the slightest idea what anxieties you put me through?”

For a moment, it almost seemed like he felt at least a little bad.

“Well, did my hard labour pay off?” he asked with a casual shrug.

Glinda sent him a brief glare that quickly softened again.

“Although I’m not the world’s foremost authority on this sort of stuff, I don’t even think Elphaba is interested in me that way. She might work out to be a very interesting friend, though.”

“Interesting, huh? You will have to tell me everything about it.”

“Yes, I know. I won’t be able to avoid that conversation for long, but for now, please excuse me. I need a shower and I have to give work a ring because I’m still feeling _‘quite ill.’_ ”

She winked at him and left to find the bathroom.

Breakfast was store-brand shitty cornflakes with barely any milk. There was no reason to complain; seeing as she had dropped by completely unannounced, Glinda considered herself lucky that Fiyero had any food to share at all.

“What did you plan for lunch?” she asked on her way to the kitchen to do the dishes.

“Cornflakes,” Fiyero replied offhandedly. “Without milk, I guess.”

She checked his fridge and cupboards to see what else she might be able to find. Perhaps, with a pinch of creativity, she could throw together something more palatable. The outlook was bleaker than she had imagined, however. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding! There is literally _nothing_ else.” She sighed, ran her fingers through her hair and placed her other hand on her hip. “Looks like I’ll go on a small shopping trip for you. After all, I did promise to keep you alive.”

“I love you, Darling” Fiyero grinned and opened his laptop.

Glinda walked over to him to have a look over his shoulder. Most of the time, Fiyero was working on his ace blog, but he also worked as a freelance journalist, dedicated to LGBTQA+ matters. As far as she could see, he was busy answering his overflowing ask inbox.

“Have you recently done anything that brought in some money? You know how much I admire your work, and starving artists are usually the most inspired kind, but you do have to take care of yourself first and foremost.”

He looked up to her and crunched his nose.

“I have a paid job coming up this weekend, but please don’t ask what it is.”

She immediately plopped down next to him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a way so there was no chance for escape.

“Now you simply have to tell. It already sounds like something very undignified.”

“And I’m still waiting for _your_ story,” he evaded, typing a little faster while pretending to focus on the task before him.  

Giggling and giving him one more squeeze, Glinda got up. She grabbed her handbag and retrieved her phone from his bedroom.

“Fine, fine. You shall hear all about it over lunch. As I shall hear about your mysterious weekend assignment.”   

She left for the supermarket, ignoring his protests.

Fiyero dropped her home after lunch to make sure that Crope and Tibbett would believe her story when she told them that she had been at his place the entire time. As Glinda had almost expected, they were terribly disappointed. Imagining her (and many of their other friends) in scandalous scenarios and dramatic love affairs easily counted as one of their favourite pastimes.

* * *

On Wednesday, after recklessly using up almost half of her five measly sick days for the year, Glinda finally decided that it was time to return to work. She was beyond nervous. Would she be believable enough if anyone asked for details regarding her brief indisposition? Did she look nearly pale enough to pass as only recently recovered? What if someone had seen her and tried to ask her trick questions, just to see her entangle herself in lies?

   She pressed the buzzer next to the big glass door and, welcoming her with a tired smile, the receptionist let her in. So far, so good. Glinda smiled back as genuinely as she could manage and headed for her room.

“Good morning,” she greeted her colleagues, her demeanour enthusiastic but seasoned with a hint of exhaustion.

Only two of them looked up, one waved her left hand while continuing to type with the other. Silently congratulating herself to have made it this far without getting in trouble, she sat down in her own little cubicle and pulled her laptop out of her bag.

Her boss didn’t make an appearance until after his morning meetings. He knocked on his table as a matter of greeting and dropped into his big leather swivel chair. The staff in the room mumbled a distracted acknowledgment. Glinda watched him from the corners of her eyes as she continued her work. The longer it took him to mention her recent absenteeism, the more uneasy she grew.

Lunch break came and went, and he still didn’t look like he was going to make a move, so Glinda took it upon herself to approach him.

“Mister Nikidik?”

He barely looked up from his computer screen, eying her over the brim of his glasses.

“Ah yes, Miss Upland. I do hope you have recovered from whatever it was that ailed you?”

“Y-yes, thank you, Sir.”

It took all of Glinda’s willpower not to flush bright red.

Nikidik took off his glasses and waved them about as he spoke.

“Well, just between the two of us, if you ever intend to call in sick to nurse a hangover, that’s fine. But please, for Oz’s sake, choose your timing more wisely.”

Quite taken aback, Glinda only frowned and nodded. Had he just used this piece of advice to call her out for lying (even if his conclusion was wildly removed from the truth)?   

He put the spectacles back on his nose and turned his attention back to the computer, opening a new window to show her the re-arranged schedule he had prepared.

“So, you missed two consultation appointments. Fortunately, as they were only introductory meetings, the clients were none the wiser when Dayae and Yolona filled in for you. Of course, you will have to take over their clients and the appointments are tomorrow morning and afternoon.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. Two appointments in one day was a lot to prepare for.

“And of course, you will have to catch up on your reports. This is our busiest month this year so far and none of your colleagues have enough time to spare to take on any additional work.”

“Of course,” Glinda sighed. “I saw the memo when I checked my drawer.”

“Good. I think, you have your work cut out for you. I hope you brought coffee.”

He sent her off with a lopsided grin and a wink, probably thinking he was funny. Given her situation, however, Glinda found it difficult to see the humour.

At the very least, she felt more or less rested and ready to get some serious work done. The day at Fiyero’s had been quite relaxing and had, to a certain degree, made up for the anxiety and queasiness she had suffered through from Saturday night till sometime Monday. Coming to think of it, she couldn’t exactly remember when she had started to feel more at ease in Elphaba’s presence. Even though she had still felt the tension within her, spending the evening with her new unlikely acquaintance had proved far less taxing than she would have guessed.

Glinda caught herself daydreaming, her mind wandering back and forth from one conversation with Elphaba to another. She shook herself back to the present and pinched her arm for good measure. With one swift, fluent motion, she pulled out the file with her preliminary reports and opened it. She had to buckle down now if she ever wanted to go home tonight.

* * *

 

By three o’clock, Glinda’s enthusiasm had diminished to a pitiful trickle of feeble determination that, combined with her sense of duty, barely kept her in her seat. Granted, she had made good progress, but the _‘to do’_ pile had hardly shrunk at all. It almost seemed like the stack of files and notes and emails was raging a war against her. By the looks of it, she was bound to lose.

Before she lost her mind, she decided to take a short trip to the lunch room, to stretch her legs and to grab a coffee. Dayae, a petite brunette, petite but still tall for her Munchkin heritage, smiled at her sympathetically and handed her a treat from a bag of mini chocolate confectionary. Glinda thanked the mighty Oz for Dayae, the only truly and unwaveringly friendly face this place had to offer.    

As she returned to her cubicle, she noticed the green light of her phone flashing. Most likely, it was a shopping list from Tibbett, who once again needed some exotic ingredients from the Quadling store around the corner. Alternatively, it could be a message from Fiyero. Or her mother – it had been almost a week since they had last talked and that was already highly unusual. She briefly debated whether she had enough energy left to deal with either of these, but finally decided to check her phone anyway, if only to procrastinate going back to work.

_‘Hey, how’s work? Thought I should share this with you. You might appreciate it.’_

The picture beneath the text was a covertly shot photo of Avaric staring at the back of a dark-skinned girl’s head and looking extremely irritated, while said girl seemed thoroughly absorbed in a conversation with another woman. Only now, she realised the message was from Elphaba.

_‘Monthly morning tea today. Avaric sat next to Sarima, but every time he tried to talk to her, all charming, bleach white grin, she staved him off and turned around to talk to someone else. He stormed off half way through and just went home after an entire day of sulking in his office.’_

Glinda couldn’t help but laugh out loud. She couldn’t believe Avaric was capable of such immaturity; neither could she believe Elphaba was the type to record the evidence of his childish behaviour in order to gossip with her. Elphaba had been right though: she did appreciate it. She had not thought that anything could possibly make her laugh today. Still chuckling, she replied with an emoticon that was laughing tears.

Confident that the newly acquired positivity would help her through the rest of her work, she snatched up her red pen to once again read through the report she had been working on for the past four hours. Only half a paragraph later, she once again found her thoughts drifting. She wondered what it would have been like if she had been accepted at TMB. Naturally, working with Avaric was not a tempting prospect at all, but how would it have been to be around Elphaba all day? Would it have been fun? Stressful? Unnerving? Impossible?

Well, with Elphaba constantly on her mind, even working on the other end of the city seemed quite impossible. She berated herself for being so easily distracted. Who could blame her though? With no finish line in sight, she was downing in a sea of work. What she needed was an anchor, something to hold out for. She glanced at her phone again. There had been no further communications from Elphaba in the last half hour since her initial messages. This was probably all she should expect from the green woman for the rest of the day. Unless, she made the next step.

  _‘You think you’re free this Sat?’_

The moment she hit _/sent/,_ she chucked the phone away and forced herself to look at the document before her. Who knew how long it would take Elphaba to reply. She couldn’t sit there, idle and unproductive, waiting for a text that might never arrive.

It didn’t work. She read the same sentence ten times over and still couldn’t process the words she herself had written just hours earlier. Frustrated, she cocked her head to look at her phone. Nothing yet. Still nothing. Nope. Not happe-

Her phone vibrated and beeped quietly, the green light started blinking again. Ignoring the way her heart had somehow skipped a beat, she reached for it.

_‘Maybe? For what?’_

Well, it was a start, although it was not something Glinda dared to put too much hope into.

_‘Whatever. What do you usually do for fun?’_

_‘Books are terrific fun.’_

At least, the reply had come promptly. On the downside, Glinda found it hard to figure out whether Elphaba was being serious, just joking or trying to put her off. Staring at the message displayed before her, she tapped her fingers on the desk. Maybe it was actually some sort of test? How in Oz was she supposed to respond?

_‘Agreed,’_ she typed at last, if only to placate Elphaba. _‘But how about something more social?’_

This time, she didn’t take her eyes off the screen at all. With almost bated breath, she waited to see how the other woman would react, but Elphaba apparently took her sweet time. Or perhaps she was simply busy. She was still at work, right? The thought occurred to Glinda, that she also should rather return to work. She must have wasted more than twenty precious minutes on this by now. But her conscience did not win out this time. She stayed put, eyes fixed on her phone as the minutes ticked by.

There. Tiny dots appeared at the bottom of the messenger window. Elphaba was typing her reply.

_‘I may have an idea.’_

A wide grin appeared on Glinda’s face.

_‘Meet me at my place. 6 p.m.’_

Without even giving it a second thought, she picked up her phone and confirmed. Now the anchor was cast and it was up to her alone to fight herself through the flood of assignments before Saturday evening. Challenge accepted.  

* * *

 

By Friday afternoon, she was right on schedule and confident that she would be able to finish all of her work before meeting Elphaba Saturday evening. All she needed to do, was to stay up a bit longer tonight and get up the next morning around the usual time she would on a normal working day. Tired, but tremendously pleased with herself, she began to tidy up her cubicle for the weekend.

She had just packed away her laptop, when her phone went off. It was the ring tone she had set up for her friends, and she quickly declined the incoming call. Grabbing her bag, she waved her colleagues goodbye and hurried out of the office.

Once outside, she checked her missed calls. Milla’s name was the first on the list, which came as a little surprise. They hadn’t talked much recently. Curious, she taped the contact to call her back.

_“Glinda?”_

“Hey Milla.”

_“Hi. Why did you reject the call? Was I interrupting something?”_

Her voice sounded like she was suggesting something cheeky. Glinda sighed.

“There are some people on this planet who still work after five. Even on Fridays.”

_“Oh. Sorry.”_

“Well, what’s up? You don’t usually call just to catch up.”

_“Are you still at the office or are you going home now? Because I wanted to ask whether you want to come clubbing tonight.”_

Glinda had been going out with the party hungry group of her friends a lot less recently. Funnily enough, she had hardly realised it until this very moment. Somehow, she didn’t seem to miss that side of social life much. Perhaps, this was her growing into a boring, old woman just a little earlier than the average society girl.

“Sorry, Milla, but I’m afraid I can’t. I had a terribly stressful week and there is still more work for me to finish off tomorrow. But you go and have fun. I’ll make it up to you next week or the one after.”

There was a brief pause, followed by a disappointed wail from the other end of the line.

_“But Glin, you gotta help me out.”_

“With what?” Glinda asked in confusion.

_“You see, there’s that guy I still know from uni. He’s really hot and really rich. We chatted online the other day, just by chance, and he asked if I wanted to hang out with him and his friends. I said I did, but now I’m getting all worked up about it. Think about it, Glinda, I don’t know any of the other people and if they are only half as swell as he is, I’ll feel totally out of place.”_

Glinda rolled her eyes. She wanted to tell her friend that they were in their mid-twenties now, far removed from the university freshmen they had been when they had first met. Shouldn’t their approach to partner search and dating have matured as well? But what did she know. Single and not even close to securing a man she could introduce to her parents as potential future husband, she might not be the best person to give advice.

_“Glinda?”_ Milla asked, sounding borderline desperate.

Glinda exhaled audibly. Leaving her friends in the lurch simply wasn’t her style. She did the math in her head: if she didn’t work tonight, she would have to sacrifice her Sunday but should still be able to finish on time, which ultimately was all that mattered. She knew she would regret this, but in the end, she had no excuse that was entirely airtight.

“Alright, alright. You win. So, what club are we talking about?”

* * *

 

Applying makeup usually was very much like a zen exercise for Glinda – calming and invigorating. After having to rush home, hurriedly take a shower and make rash decisions about clothing, shoes and colour palette, however, she was already too stressed and exhausted to enjoy the extended treatment a proper night out required. She inspected her handiwork critically. If she had a choice, she would change the colour of her eyeshadow; the glittery pastel pink did actually not reflect her current mood the way she had thought it would. She was seriously tempted, but a glance at her phone made it clear that such a dramatic alteration, which would also have to be followed by a change of outfit, was not within her time budget. With a shrug, she grabbed her brush to run it through her curls before pinning them loosely back with a crystal encrusted hairclip.

As good as ready to go, she joined Crope and Tibbett in the living room. They were engrossed in some queer TV show, but when Tibbett noticed Glinda standing next to the stuffed chair, looking at the telly, he elbowed his boyfriend and motioned in her direction with his head.

“Oh! Wow, babe!” Crope exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t know you had plans tonight! And where in Oz are you going? This is full on. Look at those sequins!”

If she knew one thing, it was that she could always count on the boys’ unsolicited compliments. It was not like she usually needed them to feel good about herself, but at the odd occasion when she did, they were invaluable.     

“I’m meeting Milla and some of her friends at the Florinthwaite club,” she told them as she made a slow and elegant half-turn to show off the very low cut at the back of her dress, which was held up by a single rhinestone beaded strap down the middle.

“Can I come, too?” Tibbett immediately piped up, but Crope gave him a light reprimanding smack on his upper arm.

“We never go to clubs that charge entry fees, remember?”

“True. And that place is _so_ overpriced! Like we couldn’t even afford more than two drinks. I thought you were broke, darling?”

“Well,” she said, checking her bag for her I.D. and emergency makeup kit, “Milla’s crush pays for the entire group. Apparently, he’s got a million times more money than the three of us combined, so I don’t have to feel too bad about racking up a bit of a bill.”

Tibbett’s eyes widened.

“Brilliant.”

If she was honest, Glinda didn’t know what exactly she thought about men who found it necessary, or even appropriate, to splash their money about in order to attract a female audience. Her younger self might have appreciated such opportunities a little more, but tonight, she literally had no reason to go, other than to support her friend. Her phone rang before she could say anything to that effect, and so she merely wished the others a good night and went downstairs where Milla and the taxi were waiting for her.

“I’m so glad you came,” her friend beamed, squeezing her hand tightly in greeting.

As the taxi pulled up in front of the prestigious club, Milla immediately squealed, which led Glinda to conclude that her heart throb had already arrived before them.  

“There he is, Glinda!” she exclaimed in an unnaturally high pitched voice, pressing her hand to her heart in excitement. “Say, isn’t he gorgeous? Look! Look!”

Glinda leaned forward to catch a quick glimpse before leaving the safety of the taxi. There was only one man among a group of six or seven girls, so there was no question who Milla had been referring to. He looked handsome enough, she supposed, but could not see what made him so special -  apart from alleged fortune, perhaps. 

Milla quickly paid the driver and nearly jumped out of the car, while Glinda thanked the man with a smile and alighted considerably more gracefully. When she finally joined the group, an excited Milla had already introduced herself and now stretched out her hand to present Glinda.

“Guys, this is my bestest friend Glinda. We went to uni together.”

Milla’s dreamboat was about to offer her a kiss on the cheek, when one of his companions jumped up to her first and engulfed her in a surprisingly affectionate hug. 

“Glinda! What a coincidence!” she cried enthusiastically before she took a step back to beam at her.   

Finally getting a good look at the redhead, Glinda immediately recognised her and it was almost  as if a car had hit her.

“Hey, um, Shenshen, right?” she said, trying to appear as delighted as her opposite.

“Where do you girls know each other from?” the guy cut in.

“Oh, she applied for a job at TMB,” Shenshen explained. “She’s a pretty smart cookie, but our HR manager was a real bitch and made sure Avaric didn’t hire her.”

Glinda did her best not to cringe. She almost felt personally offended hearing someone talk about Elphaba in such a way.

“What a pity.” Prince charming smiled at her winningly and offered his hand instead of trying to kiss her, since the moment seemed to have passed. “My name’s Trave, by the way.”

“Let’s go in!” urged Shenshen and looped her arm through Glinda’s.

This was Glinda’s first time at the club and she appreciated the classy interior. The music wasn’t quite to her taste, but she supposed she would enjoy it just as much after a drink or two. Trave talked to one of the staff that walked by, and about two minutes later, each girl of the group was holding a large flute of champagne.

“Thanks for coming, Ladies,” Trave shouted, raising his glass. “Let’s have a great night, okay?”

The women cheered in unison.

“And don’t forget, when you go to get a drink, simply tell them my name and they will charge it to my account.”

More cheering followed.

Another member of the group attracted Shenshen’s attention, and she excused herself.  Now alone, Glinda looked around to locate Milla. She found her, looking a little lost as nobody seemed to particularly take notice of her.

“Hey,” she said as she approached her friend.

Milla looked at her, then briefly looked to the ground and back. Crossing her arms, she released a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Glinda tried to mollify her. “I didn’t intend to steal your thunder.”

“It’s…” Milla bit her lip. “It’s okay. I can hardly blame you, when you barely spoke three words to them and were already swamped with adoration. That’s just you. You’re too amazing to ignore. I guess, I brought the wrong friend.”

She smiled awkwardly. It was clearly meant as a joke, but she was too hurt to actually deliver the humour. Glinda felt very much the same.

She noticed Trave standing no more than two metres away, watching the harem he had rounded up tonight, obviously pleased with himself.

“Hey Trave,” she said, reaching out to lightly touch his arm.

Looking at her, his eyes immediately lighted up and he turned to fully face her.

“Milla never properly told me how the two of you even met.”

For a moment, his smile faltered. He might have expected a different kind of conversation.

“We, uh, went to university together. Or at least we went to the same stats class, if I remember correctly.”

“And Law 205,” Milla added, blushing slightly.

“Yes… that might be right,” admitted Trave.

Glinda’s attempt to set up a conversation between the two of them turned out not very fruitful. They talked for a few minutes, but it soon became apparent that he was not very invested. Poor Milla. She looked around and considered getting another drink, but remembered that she had to be fully functional the next morning, which meant, that she had to economise her alcohol consumption wisely. Taking to the dancefloor instead appeared to be a better idea, and so, she dove into the crowd to release some steam and dance off the frustration of the past week.     

A couple of songs in, she bumped into Shenshen. They danced together for a bit, then the redhead pulled her aside.

“I just wanted to introduce you to my partner in crime,” she grinned.

They stopped in front of a Munchkin-sized brunette. Pfannee stepped behind her and laid her hands on the other girl’s shoulders.

“This is Pfannee. She also works at TMB. The poor thing had to stay behind at work and only arrived now. Pfannee, this is Glinda, the applicant I told you about.”

Pfannee reacted with a long “Ah” in recognition of the name, while Glinda’s mouth almost fell open in bewilderment. She wouldn’t have guessed that she had left much of an impression. 

Shenshen decided that a round of drinks was in order and promptly fixed herself and her friends up with colourful cocktails. The conversation soon came to life when they began discussing fashion and makeup, exchanging opinions on the latest products and favourite brands. Every once in a while, Glinda looked around to see if she could find Milla, but there was no sign of her.

Two more drinks later, Glinda decided that she should probably slow down. She certainly felt more than a little squiffy already and couldn’t afford a hangover the next morning.

“It’s such a shame,” said Pfannee as she wrapped her short arm around Glinda’s shoulders. “You would have fit in so well with us and the other girls at TMB.”

Shenshen nodded in agreement and gave her friend a wobbly high five with her almost brimming glass.

“She’s right, sweetie,” she said to Glinda, “I’d swap you for Sarima at a heartbeat.”

Glinda didn’t quite know how to reply. If Elphaba approved of her, the Vinkun girl couldn’t be all that bad.

“Uh… thanks… I guess,” she finally responded awkwardly, making the other two giggle.

“You see? You’re such a bomb and still you’re so modest! That Sarima is so self-important and aloof.”

“A lot like Elphaba actually,” Pfannee interjected and Shenshen groaned, rolling her eyes.     

“You’re spoiling my weekend, Pfann! No more talk of grumpy, green HR managers, please.”

Glinda flashed them a nervous smile before taking a big gulp of her drink. She’d realised from the beginning what type of women Shenshen and Pfannee were, but actually sitting with them, listening to their mocking, made her more than uncomfortable. She wanted to say something to defend her friend who had grown rather dear to her in such a remarkably short time. Yet, she couldn’t find the words, didn’t know where to start. All she could think of was the way Elphaba had calmly placed her black ring on the table, and that story certainly was one she was not prepared to share with either Shenshen, or Pfannee.

Despite Shenshen’s plead, Pfannee went on to give her frustration some more vent.

“I just don’t understand what Avaric sees in her,” she said, seemingly more to herself than anyone else. Before she continued, she took another swig of her cocktail. “As ugly and bad-tempered and discolourated as she is, she still has him wrapped around her scrawny, little finger. Through him, she could run the entire place if she wanted to.”

Glinda sincerely hoped it was the influence of the alcohol, but the most absurd scenario popped into her mind when she heard the other girl say such things.

“You mean she sleeps with him?” she burst out, immediately regretting it.

Pfannee and Shenshen looked at each other for a clock tick, then burst into laughter.

“Oh, sweet Oz, no!” exclaimed Shenshen, still in the midst of her fit of giggles.

“No, no, no, no,” Pfannee added, catching her breath. “She would _never_ lower herself to our level, that’s for sure.”

More tittering ensued.

Glinda realised it was high time she removed herself from the conversation. She finished her drink a little too fast, but just on time to pass it on to one of the passing staff. Feeling more at liberty to move, she excused herself, explaining that it was high time for her to look for Milla, whom she hadn’t seen in ages. The other two nodded understandingly.  

It took her a little while, but she finally located Milla in one of the partitioned booths near the restrooms. She seemed rather busy, exploring someone’s mouth and chest. Interestingly, this someone was definitely not Trave.

Glinda had seen it all before. When they had been younger, she and her friends used to look out for each other, making sure nothing went out of hand. These days, however, they had come to an understanding, that any meddling was discouraged, and if one of the girls was desperate enough to have drunken sex in one of the toilet cubicles, so be it. In other words, knowing that Milla had found herself some company and was most certainly not watching from the side-lines, moping, Glinda was now free to leave this place. Thank goodness.

Before disappearing for good, Glinda sought out Trave to thank him for his generosity. He noticed her almost as soon as she had spotted him and grinned, showing off his unnaturally white teeth.

“Hey, I’m about to go home, so I just quickly wanted to say thanks.”

His face fell in disappointment as he nodded slowly.

“I see. Well, I hope you had great fun.”   

She inwardly cringed. Of course, the only socially acceptable option was to lie.

“Yes, I had an amazing evening. First time here to be honest, and it’s really unique.”

Trave seemed satisfied with that. Confidently, he took a step forward to close the distance and gave her a lingering kiss, right at the corner of her mouth, her left cheek cupped gently. Caught entirely off guard, she stiffened. Wide eyes jumped from the hand caressing her to the face attached to her own.

Time seemed to tick by excruciatingly slowly. Still immobilised by astonishment, all she could do was to wait for the moment to pass eventually, and when he withdrew at last, she almost sighed in relief. She immediately retreated as far as she could without appearing outright rude, still trying to figure out what had lead up to this. She was certain that anything beyond a fleeting, casual peck on the cheek usually required a more elaborate set of cues, ideally a request for permission. Recognising her own illiteracy in that department, however, she took it upon herself to shoulder the blame and decided to simply gloss over Trave’s potential transgression.

Adjusting the strap of her sparkling purse, she glanced back and forth between the man in front of her and the nearby exit.

“Well, it’s time for me to go. Have a good night, and maybe say goodbye to Shenshen, Pfannee and Milla from me if you get a chance.”

She turned as quickly as she could, but he caught up with her.

“There’s no way I can make you stay a while longer?”

Forcing herself not to flinch at the way he was touching her bare arm, she shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not feeling too well and need some rest.”

This time, she was able to leave unhindered.

Outside the club, the temperature had cooled down a little. She wished she’d had the foresight to bring a scarf to wrap around her shoulders, but at least the soft breeze helped to clear her head from the tipsiness. Having gained some distance, she was able to breathe deeply and shake the tension. Nothing had happened. He had only kissed her and not even properly. She was overreacting. Or at least, she supposed she was. Kissing usually was nothing overly intimate, only something she personally was greatly uncomfortable with – which, in turn, was not his fault. Any other woman would surely not have made such a huge deal out of it. And after all, there was no way to be certain that he hadn’t acted entirely appropriately, interpreting her unconscious prompts and using his own signals as any normal man would have. She would simply forget about it and not hold it against him if they ever met again.

* * *

 

Sticking to her plan like a boss, Glinda got up at six o’clock on Saturday, just like she had the day before when she had actually commuted to the office. After freshening up a little and devouring a slice of toast for breakfast, she sat down to work, confident and motivated. As it turned out, though, the final report she needed to compose was more complicated than she had anticipated. She found endless mistakes in the calculations, which considerably altered the financial outlook for the client’s firm and therefore the appropriate recommendations. Her shoulders slumped in frustration, and despite her best efforts, it was slow going.  

Once the initial errors were corrected, everything went smoothly. Finally in the swing of things, Glinda entirely ignored lunch time and almost forgot about her evening appointment. She checked the time purely by chance, when lazy Crope sent her a text from the other room, asking whether he had left his slippers next to the couch after watching TV. With horror, she discovered that it was already quarter to five.

She left the house fifteen minutes later and caught the next tram to the city centre. There was no question that she would be slightly late, but at this stage, she was less afraid of Elphaba’s criticism. Her only regret was that she had missed her opportunity to take a little detour and see Fiyero, who was on duty as a walking advertisement for some grand opening, apparently wearing a mascot costume. She kept Elphaba informed about her whereabouts via text messages and when she finally arrived at the Thropp family residence, the green woman was already waiting for her outside the gate. 

“I’m so sorry,” Glinda greeted her, twenty minutes late and out of breath, because she had run parts of the home stretch.

Elphaba pointedly checked her wrist watch, cocking an eyebrow and twisting her mouth. She looked up.

“Just kidding,” she said softly and offered her a playful smirk.

Glinda exhaled and laughed along hesitantly.

Elphaba stuffed a hand in her pocket to reach for her car key. The sudden beeping noise and flashing lights right next to Glinda startled the blonde.

“Let’s go,” invited Elphaba, holding the passenger door open for her.

Excited, Glinda sat down. She would have been absolutely fine spending the evening at Elphaba’s house, enjoying a glass of wine and marvelling at the exquisite architecture while spending more time simply chatting with her friend. By the looks of it, however, Elphaba had put considerably more thought into this _‘date’_ than was strictly required.

“Have you finished all your work then?” Elphaba asked, risking a brief glance at Glinda before returning her full attention back to the road.

A terribly undignified snort escaped Glinda’s lips.

“Are you kidding me? I’m glad if I get to sleep before midnight tomorrow.”

Elphaba frowned.

“That doesn’t sound like a very good work-life balance,” she remarked, but Glinda merely shrugged.

“It’s not always like this.”

 This time in particular, it was entirely her own fault – and Fiyero’s – but she was hardly able to share this little secret with Elphaba. Remembering that Elphaba was working in a much more senior position than her and recalling the huge stack of materials she had dragged home from work the last time, Glinda wondered what kind of work-life balance a HR manager would have.

“I do work at home most days,” Elphaba admitted when asked, “but I still have plenty of time left for other things, which makes it quite bearable.”  

Glinda sighed.

“I envy you. Sometimes, I really feel like I don’t do much else than work, eat, sleep, repeat. I pretty much gave up on even looking for a hobby, because 350 out of 365 days I feel like there is just no time at all.”

“Well, I don’t sleep much,” Elphaba revealed, “four, five hours at the most.”

Glinda immediately was concerned.

“Not a very healthy habit at all. Please promise me you stop doing this. It won’t do you any good in the long run!”

Laughing, Elphaba pulled over and parked her car.

“I’m actually biologically hardwired to do it like that. Any more sleep and I’m insufferable for the entire day.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Glinda replied in amazement.

They got out of the car and walked down the main road until they came to a small park. There were stalls everywhere, music and a colourful mob of people and Animals. The sun had barely begun to set, but the hundreds of lights were already lit. Soon, a confusing, yet delicious onrush of food smells wafted their way. It suddenly hit Glinda how terribly hungry she was.

“Welcome to the Deer Park Animal Night Market,” Elphaba announced with an elaborate flourish of her hands. “Open from Spring to Autumn, every Saturday, Wednesday and Friday.”   

“Wow,” was all Glinda managed to say as she took it all in.

Now that they were actually amid the crowd, she felt self-conscious. She didn’t have much experience in dealing with Animals and hardly ever ventured into those parts of the city where they outnumbered the human citizens. Until the age of twelve, she had thought that they were nothing but fairy tale characters. Her childhood home in Frottica had been practically Animal-free since the great persecution some fifty years ago. She was nervous, wondering if Animals, with their keen senses and all, could sense her involuntary uneasiness. She sure hoped Elphaba couldn’t. She was willing to adjust, but it would need some time.

Luckily, if Elphaba did notice at all, she didn’t say a thing.

“What do you feel like eating?” she merely asked and pulled her from booth to booth.

Although absolutely starving at this point, Glinda found it difficult to make up her mind, when all the foods were so unknown and exotic to her. An Anteater tried to talk her into buying a roast cricket skewer, while an elderly Tigress offered a free sample of vegetarian meat. Although she was no expert, she figured that some dishes were probably not at all meant for human consumption. When they passed a tent where they were selling iced holly berry juice, Elphaba didn’t even look up to see if she might be interested in trying one.  In the end, they settled for mixed seed flatbread, topped with a tomato-dandelion chutney and honey roast nuts for desert. It was all quite delightful, but Glinda wondered whether Elphaba would have preferred something more unusual instead.

After dinner, they continued their tour through the maze of stalls. Elphaba bought a ten-pack of guaranteed chicken (as in contrast to Chicken) eggs and some Fair Shear woollen socks – from Sheep that clipped their own fleece and received adequate compensation for their product, she explained.

  The darker the evening grew, the colder it got. The sky had been overcast all day, and the developing wind only added to Glinda’s discomfort. Elphaba, enthralled as she was by all those curious and wonderful things surrounding her, soon noticed her slight shivering. She dragged her back to the wool stand and bought a broad, pastel pink scarf that she immediately draped over her shoulders. Glinda’s mild protest went unheeded.

“Just a few more minutes, okay?” Elphaba told her and steered her in the opposite direction, a green hand resting at the small of her back.

Glinda shook one more time the moment Elphaba placed her hand on her back, but immediately felt a pleasant warmth spread though her body.

As they reached the far end of the market, Elphaba homed in on a second-hand stall. According to the banner, the proceeds from sales were donated to an Animal rescue charity. Glinda wasn’t quite sure what that was.

“Hey, Brrr!” Elphaba called as they approached and a frighteningly large Lion stepped forward. He sat down in front of Elphaba and lifted his paw for her to shake. “I brought a friend. This is Glinda. Glinda, this is Brrr.”

The Lion and the blonde eyed each other carefully, each trying and failing to set their apprehension aside.

“Brrr… that’s an interesting name,” Glinda finally said out of loss for a better topic. “Is that a typical name among your species?”

He rolled his mighty, maned head, casting Elphaba a long, questioning look. She half nodded and half shrugged, leaving the decision of whether or not he should tell Glinda anything up to him.

After clearing his throat somewhat tentatively, he said, “BRRR503 was the code on my ear tag.”

He tilted his head to the right to show off his ear, where a small, blue piece of plastic, cut to size and edges radiused, was still in evidence. Galinda gasped. Even without knowing the specifics yet, the use of tags to mark a being’s body in any form suggested a less than dignified existence.

“I was given a proper name, at some point,” Brrr continued, “but I decided that this one was more reflective of who I am.”

A brief pause.

“You see, I was born in the less famous slums of this oh so glorious city. When she could no longer afford to feed me, my mother sold me to Animal traffickers, hoping I might end up spending my early childhood as someone’s fur baby pet, I suppose. Anyway, what she probably won’t want to know is that I actually wound up in an animal testing facility. The use of Animals is illegal, of course, but who could tell when the cub in question was but an infant? Thousands of Animal youngsters are secretly being submitted to unlawful procedures, hidden in plain sight, among crowds of less cognitively advanced beasts of the same name, shape and colour.”

Glinda didn’t live under a rock, of course. She’d heard about Animal abuse of various kinds, but to meet an actual victim in real life made it all agonisingly real. She suddenly felt ashamed, simply because she was human and therefore belonged to the same race as the perpetrators. Averting her eyes, she diverted her attention to the goods on sale.

“So, your charity -” she had to swallow the lump in her throat first “- saves young Animals from such facilities?”

“Well, it’s not _my_ charity, exactly,” he replied, but still nodded. “I was freed by a group of youth volunteers eight years ago. Because the facilities themselves outwardly appear as lawful, legal investigations often take too long and sometimes fail completely. To stop pointless suffering, rogue raids are conducted, often at great risk for the liberators.”

She chewed her lip thoughtfully, wondering what the charges would be for breaking into a private property, vandalising the equipment and stealing what was, without question, considered nothing but property. It was admirable how some people, especially young ones, could jeopardise their own safety and future in order to save others. Her own hart was undoubtedly in the right place, but she doubted that it would be strong enough to conjure such bravery.

Her bleary gaze drifted aimlessly, then focused on Elphaba. She looked passive, lost in her own contemplations, maybe. Glinda wasn’t certain of course, but she thought, she might be able to finally put one and one together.

“Do you know the people who freed you? Do you have any contact?” she asked softly as she returned her attention to Brrr.

He anxiously shifted his weight and ran his large tongue over his dark, thin lips.

“Participants of such raids generally remain anonymous to minimise risk,” he said. A little quieter, he added, “Yet some are far too distinctive to remain entirely unrecognised.”

He exchanged looks with Elphaba, who seemed to try very hard not to acknowledge them, but Glinda already saw her speculations confirmed. She decided not to mention it, however – not tonight at any rate. She was confident that Elphaba now knew that she knew, and although she was sure that Elphaba would not have introduced her to Brrr if she truly minded her knowing, she seemed somewhat shy about it, for whatever reason. Glinda respected that. And she respected Elphaba. Even more so than she had a mere couple of minutes ago.

They bid their farewells soon after. Glinda didn’t have much money left to buy any merchandise, but she did drop a gold coin in the donation can and attached the sticker she received in turn to her pink scarf. In the car, Elphaba turned on the heater. She must have noticed her shivering on the way back from the park.

“Thank you, Elphie,” sighed Glinda, melting into her seat. “This outing was very… unique and, dare I say it, surprisingly personal.”

 Elphaba only looked at her via the mirror.

“Well, I suppose you’re welcome,” she replied evenly and started the motor.

Glinda watched houses, lamp posts and occasional trees roll by. It was nice and toasty now in the car and the darkness and quiet was a welcome change from the busy atmosphere at the market. She could feel her eyelids growing heavier and she fought against the urge to close them for just a minute or two. It was hopeless.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, what an insanely long wait! I apologise!  
> I was sick and I was exhausted and wow, this is such a ridiculously long chapter! 
> 
> I don't even know what else to say other than that I hope that I didn't fill it with too much superfluous waffling (Why else would it be so long?) Anyway, I hope the wait was worth it, so please enjoy!
> 
> WARNING:  
> The Aphobia is strong with this one! In the end at least.

 

 

 

 

**Chapter Five**

A thin ray of morning sun filtered through the small gap between the curtains, tickling Glinda’s nose. She stretched, wiggled around to lie on her other side and buried her face in the pillow where no light could possibly disturb her. Her body hadn’t received the recommended minimum of seven hours of sleep in over a week, and she probably hadn’t felt this well rested in over a year or more. So, naturally, her subconscious mind seemed determined to make this current state of relaxation last forever. Sighing into the luxuriously soft pillow, she was about to return to a phase of deeper sleep, when suddenly something clicked in her brain, and she rolled onto her back, immediately wide awake.      

“Oh shit.”

Her mind began to race through a kind of emergency checklist to gauge the situation. For a few moments, she just lay there, perfectly still, apart from the pronounced heaving of her chest. Her hands rested flat on the sheet, fingertips tentatively stroking the far too delicate, silky fabric. A quick look around told her that the room was nicely decorated, but definitely plain and impersonal enough to be a guest room. A thought, an association popped into her mind and she already had an idea how to verify it. Her eyes darted up, recognising the artful stucco ceiling at once.

She was at Elphaba’s house and it suddenly made sense, for the last thing she could remember, was being in Elphaba’s company.  She also believed to remember that she hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol the previous night – not one. Looking back down, she could confirm, that she was still fully dressed, bar her shoes, wearing the exact same outfit she’d worn before passing out... And after all, it _was_ Elphaba’s house.

Yes, Elphaba’s house, where Elphaba lived. The thought of having her green friend nearby was strangely comforting. Even though they had not known each other for particularly long, and even though her reasons for trusting her were beyond evidence or logic, she considered Elphaba safe. In fact, she was possibly one of the safest people Glinda knew and Fiyero might very well have been the only one among her long-term friends to rival her in this department. 

Glinda released a deep breath. All worst-case scenarios ruled out, she already felt a little calmer, but still tried to rack her brain and piece together what exactly had happened. She remembered the night market and she remembered getting into Elphaba’s car afterwards. She remembered how cosy and warm it had been and how exhausted she had felt. That’s where her blurry recollections fizzled out. In the end, she supposed, she must have fallen asleep in the passenger seat.  Oh, merciful Oz!

She covered her face with her hands, utterly mortified. Perhaps, after her week of hell, it was no wonder that she had ended up drifting off, but that was still no acceptable excuse and furthermore, Elphaba didn’t even know half of it! What must she be thinking of her now, crashing out in somebody else’s car just like that? Had she been able to walk up the stairs on her own feet at least (although most certainly with Elphaba’s assistance) or had Elphaba been forced to carry her all the way, while she’d been snoozing away, unconscious like a passed out drunk?

The mental image alone made her want to die of embarrassment and yet, she replayed it in her head over and over. She thought of Elphaba, who definitely looked like she could lift her without difficulty and then, she pictured herself cradled in those strong arms, limp, her own extremities dangling from her side and her head tilted backwards. She realised how close their bodies would have been. A wry laugh escaped her lips. The entire situation was disturbing. And a bit funny. Disturbingly funny. She only hoped Elphaba could see the humour as well.

It occurred to her, that she would have to go downstairs soon and face her friend. The notion terrified her more than it probably should have. Superficially, she knew that it was just a little mishap, by no means the end of the world, but Glinda was still fairly unaccustomed to the entire situation. Up until last night, the upkeep of certain social standards had never been a big issue for her. She had always taken pride in her own sense for propriety, even when she found herself, more often than not, in much less virtuous company. It was how she saw herself, how she wanted others to see her. Now it was like that perfect image had been chipped and she was disappointed in herself. And, however unreasonable her fear might have been, she was worried that Elphaba would be disappointed as well.

 But it was all no use. There was no turning back the clock now. Mistakes had been made and she would have to own up to them now. She resolved to go downstairs as soon as possible in order to make sure that she wouldn’t also appear lazy to boot. On her way down the stairs, she wondered how used Elphaba was to having friends stay over at her place. How many of those friends had nodded off in her car or maybe on her couch, requiring her aid in order to reach a more adequate sleeping location? She would hate to be that first to ever have done such a thing, the memory of the incident forever engraved in Elphaba’s head.

_‘Hey, still remember how you fell asleep in my car that one time? How I had to drag you up the stairs all on my own?’_

Elphaba’s voice in her head was so taunting that, instead of finding her in the kitchen where she was probably having her Sunday morning breakfast, Glinda was severely tempted to run away from her by leaving through the front door, which she was so conveniently passing this very moment. She didn’t, however, for she also understood that it was her own fears and anxieties talking, not her emerald friend.  

Approaching the kitchen, she began to tiptoe, not wanting to be heard and anticipated. She would much rather be the one to sneak up and survey the situation first than having Elphaba’s eyes scrutinise her the moment she appeared in her field of vision.

Luckily, it seemed like her attempt at stealth was crowned with success. Standing in the doorway, presumably undetected, she watched Elphaba, engrossed in a book and slurping steaming hot tea. The other chairs at the small kitchen table were empty, safe for one, which was covered by a blue hoodie that Glinda had not seen before. It didn’t quite look like Elphaba’s style, which made her slightly nervous.

Her eyes scoured the room for Elphaba’s brother or perhaps another visitor, but could find no sign of the jacket’s owner. She was hopeful, but not convinced that they were alone. Unfortunately, whether there indeed was another person or not, she could hardly hide in her guest room for the rest of the day. Still a little tense, she nodded to herself in encouragement and moved closer, this time purposefully making noise to herald her arrival.

Somewhat begrudgingly, Elphaba lifted her gaze to determine the source of the footsteps and rustling, but when she realised who it was, her lips twitched into a pleased, crooked smirk. The all-important book quickly became irrelevant.

“Hey, there! Good morning,” she said, arguably a little too cheerfully.

Glinda’s reaction turned out a bit more moderate.

“Morning.”

Walking up to the table, she once more took the opportunity to ascertain that no one else was currently present.

“Shell isn’t at home?” she asked and Elphaba shook her head.

“I have not the slightest inkling where that sad fool might have spent the night, but one thing is sure: if he didn’t sleep here, he won’t be back before noon. He simply can’t do without his twelve hours of sleep.”

“Like a polar opposite to you?” Glinda was intrigued. “Perhaps,” she mused, “it’s how the universe preserves its balance: for every short sleeper there must be a sack rat.”

Elphaba cast her a funny look, seemingly not at all convinced.

“I have a better explanation for you,” she snorted. “The thing is, that short sleeping is considered a hereditary sleeping disorder. In my opinion, our wildly different sleep patterns only confirm what Shell and I already suspected since we were little: that we are of different parentage.”

Glinda had no reply to that. Even in this modern world, such a revelation would still be shocking enough to some, especially considering the fact that Elphaba’s supposed father was a man of faith and a religious leader at that. She herself was only mildly taken aback by Elphaba’s bluntness. Her offhand mention of such a delicate matter begged the question whether she truly didn’t mind or only pretended not to. Ultimately, Glinda decided that it was better not to probe any further for now, just in case.

Finishing her tea with one last swig, Elphaba pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. She refilled her cup with more of the same, offering Glinda to either have some, too, or use the coffee machine if that suited her better. Glinda went for the coffee. As the machine warmed up, she watched Elphaba open the fridge and conjuring forth an array of vegetables and other mostly healthy-looking ingredients.

“You like omelettes?” Elphaba asked her without turning around.

“Uh, yes,” Glinda confirmed and Elphaba went on to empty the entire content of the night market-bought egg carton into a large bowl. She felt stupid, standing there, while Elphaba, who had already done so much for her in the past twelve or so hours, was making her such an elaborate breakfast. “Can I… maybe help somehow?”

Elphaba paused, casting her a quick glance. She looked surprised, either because she wasn’t used to others pitching in, or maybe because she remembered Glinda’s confession regarding her non-existing kitchen talents.

“If you insist,” she said slowly. “You could chop the mushrooms and the capsicum, and I guess I’ll do the snow peas, onions and herbs then.” The blonde nodded. “There, um, are small kitchen knives in the top drawer next to the sink and a wooden cutting board hanging above the toaster.”

Glinda quickly gathered the utensils needed and put them down on the kitchen bench next to where Elphaba was standing, so they could share the ingredients. As it turned out, Elphaba’s scepticism had, at least in part, been justified. While it was usually not a great hinderance in the rare cases when she actually prepared a meal from scratch, Glinda had to admit, that her chopping skills were not very advanced. Some of the pieces turned out chunkier than she supposed they should and all of them were as uniquely shaped as snowflakes. She told herself, that the unsightly vegetables would be hidden in a tidy wrap of egg, but her ears still turned slightly red, when she felt Elphaba’s amused look on her.

At first, the busy silence between them had come as a relieve, but truth be told, processing the food was not quite demanding enough a task to warrant such a state of pretended heightened concentration. The longer she remained quiet, the bigger the elephant in the room seemed to become and eventually, it all became too unbearable for her.

“I-I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you last night,” she began as nonchalantly as she could manage, yet markedly staring at her capsicum. “You must have been really annoyed when you noticed that I had fallen asleep in your car. And on top of that, you even let me sleep at your place, which was awfully kind of you. I just really feel I should apologise for imposing myself on you as I did.”

Elphaba finished mincing the onions, put her knife down and turned around to casually lean against the counter, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Not at all,” she replied with a shrug. “And if it makes you feel better, I actually did drive to your apartment building to try and get you home. But you must have been pretty whacked, because you just wouldn’t wake up. And I suppose, the only name on the panel was your flatmate’s? Because I couldn’t find a tag that read _‘Upland.’_ ”

The light pink tint on Glinda’s ears rapidly spread across her cheeks and nose, presumably her entire face even, judging by the almost burning hot sensation she felt.

“Oh, wow, that was so, so thoughtful of you,” she almost stammered.

Her bad conscience was only fuelled by the realisation that Elphaba must have tried to deliver her to Fiyero’s address, since that was the one she had used that last time she had so generously offered to drop her off. It had seemed too complicated to explain her reasoning back then and assuming that it was a one-off occurrence, she hadn’t seen a problem with it. Apparently, she’d been wrong.

 “I confess, I’m not sure how exactly it should make me feel better though, knowing that you went to such lengths, only to end up standing in front of locked doors,” she chuckled nervously. “It seems a little mean.”

“Oh no, that’s not at all what I had meant to point out!” Elphaba was quick to clarify, rubbing her neck sheepishly. “I just thought that it might have made you uncomfortable, waking up in a foreign bed, wondering how you got there. I figured, it would be important for you to know that I only brought you here as my last resort. I didn’t want it to look like I took advantage of the situation or whatever.”

Glinda glanced up at her, blinking, then averted her eyes again. _‘Advantage?’_ What kind of advantage was there in burdening oneself with an uninvited guest overnight and the following morning?

Nevertheless, a small smile slowly began to creep across her face. Elphaba was simply too caring, too knowledgeable, too perfect. Having a friend like her definitely was worth the rocky start they’d had and one day, she might even admit to Fiyero that she would be forever grateful for his intervening, which ultimately had made it all happen.

“Are you finished with that?” Elphaba enquired before taking Glinda’s butchered vegies to the trolley next to the stove.

She expertly whipped the egg, poured a small portion of it into the pan and spread the other ingredients on one half before flipping the other half over, creating a fluffy, yellow pocket.

  “Got any plans today?” she asked, playing with her spatula while waiting for her creation to finish cooking.

“I’m afraid, I do,” Glinda sighed. “I have so much work to finish till tomorrow, it’s not even funny. Now that you were so hospitable as to provide me with not only a bed, but also breakfast, I feel like I owe you some entertainment. Alas, this weekend has already been distracting enough and if I rock up at the office on Monday with a half-finished report, I might as well see myself out.”

Nodding, Elphaba immediately proposed to drive her, but Glinda couldn’t let that happen. The prospect of maybe being found out if that were to happen was too terrifying.  

“There are heaps of trams around this time of day” she tried to assure Elphaba. “One of them goes all the way from the little takeaway place around the corner to my flat.”  

Elphaba didn’t dare argue with that. She was respectful like that and a _no_ was clearly a _no_.

* * *

 

 In the end, Glinda hadn’t been in a great hurry to leave Elphaba’s place after all. As per her conscience’s insistence, she’d left soon after they’d finished their breakfast, but her definition of _‘breakfast’_ was a conveniently loose one, entailing idle chatting and playful banter as long as they took place at the table and while plates and silverware were still present, even in the absence of any actual food. As a result, it was early in the afternoon, when she finally opened the door to her own apartment.

Tibbett was lounging on the couch, not watching the weird talk show that was running on the television. The moment he noticed her walking into the living area, he perked up.

“Wow, Sweetie, you were M.I.A. again last night! Crope already wanted to call the police, but I told him that it would be very counterproductive if we made such a fuss every time you went on a date, because you might just give up on it altogether and then it would be our fault if you die an embittered old spinster’s death.”  

He took a deep, theatrical breath and collapsed onto the couch again. All Glinda could do was stare at him in bewilderment.

“Well, first of all,” she intoned, “you simply could have tried calling my phone and secondly” – she took a step towards him, leaned forward a little more and sniffed – “Tibbett, are you stoned?”

“Perhaps the tiniest bit,” he groaned, rubbing his irritated eyes.

“For goodness’ sake! That’s just great. And where’s Crope? I sincerely hope you didn’t accidentally leave him in whatever hole you got this stuff from!”

This very same moment, the apartment door swung open again and Crope came in, carrying a brown paper bag with the local supermarket’s logo.

“Oh hey! Our better third has returned!” he rejoiced.

“You are okay then?” she asked suspiciously while he made his way to the kitchen, unpacking a large bottle of cranberry-orange juice, chocolate bars and a jar of peanut butter.

“Yes, all good on my end, no worries,” he quickly confirmed and got bread, jam and a knife out to make sandwiches for his boyfriend. “I’ve had enough bad experiences with weed, so I was the sober driver last night. I also wasn’t quite as desperate as poor Tibbs here to impress that Korrell guy by matching him breath by breath.”

“Do I know this _‘Korrell’_?” Glinda frowned.

“I highly doubt it. We met him at yesterday’s gay bar. He works there.”

“And he gets stoned on the job?”

“Well, it actually seems to be part of his job description,” Crope told her with a half-hearted shrug.”

Glinda was about to give up on them. She didn’t really want to know what kind of questionable establishments were they frequenting, or what in Oz was going on in those boys’ silly heads. Although she did consider them her friends in some ways, it sometimes seemed prudent to think of them as just her flatmates. This way, she had the freedom to decided that Crope and Tibbett’s nightlife was definitely none of her business. Irritated nonetheless, she shook her head and marched off towards her room.

Just when she’d reached for the door handle, Crope asked, “And what have you been up to all night? I hope nothing scandalous?”

“No, only a sleepover at Fiyero’s.”

The lie came easily by now. Whenever she needed to conceal her true activities and whereabouts from probing and plotting minds, it worked like a charm. Until that day, that was.

“Interesting,” Crope mused, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You two sure spend heaps of time together recently. Are we to expect a comeback?”

Glinda was caught so off guard by his suggestion and the eyebrow wiggle that followed, that, for a clock tick, it almost seemed as though she’d give away the true reason why that was not even a remote possibility. She wasn’t going to out neither herself, nor Fiyero just like that though and so, once she had regained her footing, she replied with a masterful eyeroll.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Our relationship has long evolved beyond that. Going back to seeing each other in a romantic setting would be like dating my brother if I had one!”

Her answer seemed to confuse him.

“Then what in Oz are you two doing all the time?” he demanded incredulously. “If that’s the case, you really have to get out of each other’s hair and concentrate on finding your respective partners, or it will never happen. Anyone who sees you two together will think that you’re already taken and not even try.”

Coming to think of it, Glinda realised that she’d actually be quite fine with that. She definitely wasn’t overly desperate to find that love of her life just yet, especially considering all those uncertainties and endless complications that would be involved. While it might be nice to find someone, who’d cherish and dote on her, she simply couldn’t be bothered going through all the trouble at this point. Sooner or later, her parents would start nagging for sure, but so far it was only her mother who’d, once in a while, innocently ask for up to date info about her romantic situation.

Unfortunately, she also knew that Crope and Tibbett were less patient to see her paired up with a dashing guy or gal.

“He’s having a rough time,” she told Crope to justify her frequent visits. “The coming out to his parents hasn’t been a very positive experience, I’m afraid.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was a very manipulative way of telling and simultaneously contorting the truth. She knew her flatmate would immediately jump to the wrong conclusion, which would also get him off her back for the time being.

Indeed, she was right.

“Yeah, that’s tough sometimes,” Crope nodded thoughtfully before brightening up again. “You should bring him over when he’s free. We can introduce him to some people if he needs help to find his feet and stuff.”

Glinda smiled appreciatively, mainly because the focus had finally switched away from herself.

“Thanks. At a later time perhaps. It’s… a bit too much for him right now, I think.”

Crope once again bobbed his head in understanding. When he turned around to grab a tray for the snacks and drink he had prepared for Tibbett, Glinda seized the opportunity and quickly disappeared behind her own door. She only had a few more hours left to finish her work, which was going to be a fabulous excuse to not grace the boys’ company with her presence again until maybe later in the evening.

* * *

   

On Monday, Glinda was off to a good start at work. After finishing all of her catch up assignments on time, she was able to begin the new week with a blank slate and for the first time in a while, she felt like she was in absolute control of her workload and not the other way around. The following day, she was assigned only one new project instead of two or three as she had come to expect and was happy to collect brownie points for helping out her co-workers. She was motivated and buzzing from morning to home time and it could hardly have been better, except for one problem: the moment she left office and had nothing else to occupy her mind with, she thought of Elphaba and, as ridiculous as it sounded even just in her head, she already felt she missed her.

The first time she’d left the office early, she’d boarded the tram, played with her phone and suddenly felt a strong urge to send Elphaba a text. What should she say though, she’d wondered? What excuse would she give for messaging her for no apparent reason and only a day after they had last met? She didn’t want to be perceived as bothersome or even clingy. There was no rational reason why she should crave the unusual, green woman’s attention and companionship. There were plenty of other friends she could hang out with or talk to over the phone. There were Crope and Tibbett with whom she had to converse on a daily basis, whether she wished to or not. In short, she was not at all deprived of human contact and was certainly not dependant on just that one particular person to humour her inexplicable cravings.

So, she hadn’t texted her. She also didn’t call her when this strange urge plagued her yet again the following day, seemingly even stronger than before, demanding that she dialled Elphaba’s number. Instead, she placed her phone in her desk drawer and closed the door to her room when she headed for the kitchen to prepare a quick frozen curry meal. She was going to great lengths to distract herself and even had bought some of that really fancy, but sinfully expensive ice cream everyone was talking about. At least half of it had already disappeared in her tummy by the time the microwave announced that the main course was done.

“Oh. My. Oz!” Tibbett exclaimed when he came home from his own work and noticed the container on the bench top. “Is that that new ice cream? Is it really as good as everyone says? Can I please, please try some?”

“Help yourself,” Glinda replied and pushed a clean table spoon, fresh from the dishwasher, his way. His eyes lit up even more.

“Wow, I can have a big scoop then? How generous.”   

He scratched a well-sized chunk out of the container, then slowly and with relish sucked it off the spoon. 

“And?” Glinda asked after a little while, having finished her meal and about to put the rest of the ice cream into the freezer.

“I’m not sure yet. It’s totally delish for sure, but it mainly tastes like nougat.”

“Ha! I thought the same. There definitely isn’t enough good nougat ice cream out there though, so it might still be worth it. What do you reckon?”

“If you pay for it,” he grinned and reached to steal one more spoon full of the sweet treat. As he popped it into his mouth, however, his expression changed into a frown. “Coming to think of it, it’s a bit out of character for you to spend so much money on something so unnecessarily extravagant, unless it’s your birthday or something. Is something up?”

“No,” she replied just a little too tenuously. “What should be wrong?”

“Well, sweetie, I’m your friend, not a psychic. But if there’s anything you want to talk about, Crope and I will be all ears.”

She offered him a fleeting smile before turning around and putting away the ice cream.

“Of course, you will,” she chuckled softly, suppressing a sigh.

 Tibbett left again to pick up Crope from his community theatre rehearsals and Glinda stayed behind by herself. It was strange. There wasn’t much she could have told him even if she had wanted to confide in someone. She didn’t have a clue why she was so focused on Elphaba all of the sudden and now that it was Tuesday evening already, she reasoned that contacting her wouldn’t be so bad either. A simple text, two days after their last meeting, would probably not make Elphie hate her just like that. Still, she hesitated, despite knowing that it would most likely provide her with the closure she needed right now.

She moved on to watching some TV and reading a page or two from the romance novel she had started months ago but almost forgotten about. When she was ready to go to bed, she retrieved her phone from the drawer, feeling foolish in hoping against hope that Elphaba might have sent her a message. At least, she was able to handle the disappointment when there was indeed nothing.

On Wednesday, thoughts of talking to Elphaba again haunted her even at work. It was difficult to concentrate on anything, let alone those Oz-damned calculations. Her only comfort was that there were no client meetings that day, which meant that there was no need to actually talk to people and possibly betray her pointless anxieties. To that end, she also skipped her breaks and stayed at her desk to munch on a sandwich while correcting one of her spread sheets for the fifth or sixth time.

She left the moment the clock struck five, fully aware that her muddled mind had not done very well at all and that a lot of the rubbish she’d produced would have to be revised and partially rewritten later. To do that efficiently, however, she would need to clear her head first and so, she finally plucked up her courage and called Elphaba’s number.

With baited breath, she waited for the ringing to end and Elphaba’s voice to greet her with some sardonic remark or another. After twenty-six seconds, Elphaba’s voice rang out at last, but it was only her voicemail. More deeply disappointed than she cared to admit and at a total loss of what to tell the lifeless device, Glinda let her hand drop, staring at the screen for a moment before ending the call. Releasing a frustrated huff, she quickly boarded the tram that had just arrived.      

In the evening of the following day, Glinda and her flatmates had dinner together. It had been Crope’s idea that they should eat together on the first day of every month as some sort of bonding exercise. They rotated cooking duty and while she dreaded every time that it was her turn to produce a more or less enjoyable meal, she absolutely loved the food the boys spoiled her with on all those other occasions. This particular time, especially after the day she’d had, she thought she definitely deserved a treat.

Ever since her attempt to call Elphaba, her anxieties over contacting her friend had lessened to a more tolerable degree, but that didn’t mean she no longer desired to see or talk to her. She also was worried now that something between them was off, since Elphaba had not acknowledged her call at all. Of course, not leaving a message when she was unable to reach her probably wasn’t working in her favour and perhaps Elphaba thought she’d dialled her number by accident. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking how receiving a quick message or call would have been quite reassuring.

On a more positive note, she’d been able to complete her work - it only had taken her three hours of overtime, causing her to arrive late for dinner. Thankfully, Crope and Tibbett weren’t usually fussy about stuff like this. They already knew how stressful her work could be.

Half-way through the delicious creamy pasta dish, Glinda heard her phone’s ringtone sound through the closed door to her room. Rolling her eyes, she excused herself. She swore that if it was her mum, she’d say _‘Hi, bad timing,’_ and hang up; if it was Fiyero, she’d just decline the call and text him later.

It wasn’t Fiyero and it definitely wasn’t her mum. Instead, it was Elphaba’s name that was showing on the display. Her heart almost missed a beat.

“H-hello?” she tentatively answered the phone.

 _“Hi.”_ It was Elphaba’s voice. Definitely Elphaba’s voice.  _“I don’t know if you wanted me to call back yesterday, but you didn’t leave a message, so…”_

“No, that’s fine,” Glinda immediately interrupted her.

Hoping this conversation might take a little longer, she gestured for the boys to go on without her and disappeared in her room again. She kicked the door shut and flopped into her swivelling desk chair, impatiently swinging it left and right.

“I just called to see how you were, I guess.”

She almost cringed at herself. Sweet Oz, how feeble that sounded! What kind of reason was that? But it was more or less true, so whatever.  

_“Oh, okay.”_

Elphaba sounded amused. There was just the tiniest laugh that accompanied her reply, but Glinda was still able to hear it. Was this good or bad? Well, it wasn’t terrible, she supposed, because Elphaba didn’t seem outright annoyed, but for Glinda, there was a very fine line between amusing Elphaba and making a fool of herself.

Reluctant to risk humiliation, she remained silent for a moment, as did Elphaba. Eventually, it was the green woman who spoke up.

 _“Well, I have this gettogether going on at my house tomorrow. It’s just gonna be a handful of friends. You’re welcome to join in if you’re not too intimidated.”_  

An invitation to see Elphaba! Halleluiah! A delighted giggle escaped her mouth, much to Glinda’s horror. Mustn’t sound too eager, she reprimanded herself. Still, her stomach turned the loop at the thought.

Would she be intimidated to meet a bunch of people who all knew each other? Who knew Elphaba? Probably had known her for quite a while longer and much better than Glinda? Yes, she might be, surely would be and most likely terribly so. But there was no way around it.

“Sure,” she replied as casually as she could manage after clearing her throat.   

 _“Great,”_ said Elphaba and paused. _“That should be interesting.”_

 _‘Interesting?’_ The word worried the blonde just a notch, but she shrugged it off.

They quickly went through the details, which Glinda jotted down diligently. Her head felt too giddy to retain information accurately. After putting down her phone, she sat quietly, surprised at her own reaction, the disproportional onslaught of emotions. After briefly wondering what could have been the cause, she settled for relief. She was relieved that they were okay, that things apparently wouldn’t be awkward between them. She was relieved to have talked to her and especially that Elphaba had called her out of her own free will. And she was relieved that she now knew that she’d see her again and very soon at that.

She couldn’t hide the spring in her step when she returned to the dining table, no matter how much she knew it would intrigue her flatmates. When they asked, she truthfully answered that she was going to Elphaba’s on Friday and that immediately gave them enough fodder to launch a full-blown investigation. Since she had long used Fiyero as a shield to keep her meetings with Elphaba a secret, they had many questions and Glinda did her upmost to answer them without incriminating herself too much or giving them wrong ideas concerning her relationship with Elphaba. They immediately ‘shipped’ them anyway, planning how to encourage what they understood to be a perfect love story in the making. Needless to say, Glinda couldn’t take it very long and returned to the sanctuary of her own room soon after finishing her food.

* * *

 

Glinda left work as soon as she could to catch the tram to the city centre. After turning up late to their most recent appointment, she was determined not to let it happen again. In fact, she was half an hour early when she texted Elphaba that she’d arrived.

“Hey, you’re early,” Elphaba remarked, either impressed or shocked or maybe both. “Did you sneak away from work when your boss wasn’t looking?”

“Not really. I started early to make sure I wouldn’t end up staying after hours, but it wasn’t very busy. Half of the office left almost an hour before I did.”

Elphaba nodded.

“It _is_ Friday, I suppose. Sometimes I’m glad if my team stay long enough to even take an afternoon tea break. Shall I help you with those?”

She pointed at the two giant, pastel pink paper bags Glinda was struggling to keep off the ground.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

Glinda felt frustratingly short when the taller woman took the bags from her and carried them with enviable ease.

  “I made some cupcakes,” she explained as she hurried up the stairs to follow Elphaba inside.

Elphaba cast a sceptical look over her shoulder.

“I thought you don’t cook. Are you a baker then?”

“No.” A light blush coloured Glinda’s face and she fell a little behind. “It’s just a packaged cake mix. To be honest, I’m glad they didn’t burn.”

Her confession earned her a hearty cackle.

When they reached the kitchen, she realised that she was not the only early bird.

“So, Boq, this is Glinda,” Elphaba immediately informed the Munchkin who was sitting at the kitchen table, preparing fruit skewers. She turned around to Glinda. “Glinda, this is Boq. We work together. He is part of the investment team.”

She believed to recognise him from that one fateful visit to TMB, but couldn’t be sure. She had to admit that she wasn’t very practiced in telling Munchkins apart.

“How do you do,” she said perhaps a touch too charmingly, elegantly extending her hand for him to shake.

Elphaba stifled a snort, but Boq only smiled at her and lightly returned her gesture.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Glinda,” he said with a small nod.  

Another snort.

“Are you two toffs done now?” Elphaba asked flatly.

The blonde and the Munchkin exchanged glances, then started laughing at themselves, somewhat awkwardly.    

“Wow, look at this,” Elphaba exclaimed, recapturing their attention.

She had just taken out the first of several boxes from the bags.

Boq raised himself to his tiptoes in order to see better.

“Those look delicious!”

“Well, they are just made from a mix,” Glinda repeated, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and gingerly tucking it behind her ear.

“But they don’t come all fancy like that,” Elphaba pointed out. “I think, we discovered your secret talent, _Miss_ Glinda.”

The colour of Glinda’s cheeks deepened. Admittedly, she had spent a good portion of the previous night decorating the miniature cakes. She’d felt bad for not making them from scratch and had hoped that the buttercream roses and sugar lace butterflies would sort of make up for that flaw.

The others turned up not much later. Brrr arrived exactly on time, in the company of a Monkey named Chistery. From what Glinda was able to gather, he was a relatively recent rescue case and the Lion was his mentor, partially responsible for his everyday care, but mainly in charge of helping him to adjust to life in the outside world. The poor guy barely spoke a word, although Glinda couldn’t tell whether it was a speech impediment or a result of his shy and nervous disposition. Brrr suggested that there were rumours that Chistery and some others had been freed from the Wizard’s own facilities, but even he didn’t know for sure and Glinda couldn’t imagine that it was actually true. After all, the Wizard himself had introduced the ban on Animal experiments almost two decades ago and the political implications would be huge. 

The last to arrive was a young Vinkun woman and Glinda immediately recognised her from the pictures Elphaba had shared with her a while ago. Sarima showed up fashionably late. Judging by the low-cut tunic and tiny jeans shorts, she’d popped by her own place after work to change out of her presumably more modest uniform. Even Glinda’s Casual Friday outfit, consisting of a lace-trimmed, peach-coloured blouse and long, slim-fit, black pants with heeled bootlets felt childishly prim in comparison and it made her feel slightly self-conscious.

It got worse, when Elphaba finally re-emerged from the wine cellar and Sarima swiftly traversed the room to greet her with purposeful, maybe even demonstrative kisses on both cheeks. Glinda quietly watched from the side lines, biting her lower lip. She was almost bewildered by the boldness, the self-confidence that seemed to radiate from Sarima. And she was just a bit envious of how easy and natural it appeared to be for her to approach people, not hesitating once to use body contact to assert her presence. Elphaba had barely betrayed any special reactions to this kind of greeting, but she also hadn’t lifted as much as a finger to dodge it.

She watched them exchange a few words, trying to ignore the odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, the way she had to shift her weight several times from one leg to the other. Eventually, the pair, Sarima still extremely close to Elphaba, walked over to make the necessary introductions.

“Hi, I’m Sarima,” the Vinkun said immediately, holding out her hand. “You’re Glinda?”

 _‘Pull yourself together,’_ was all Glinda could think and so, she put on her brightest smile, took a superficially confident step forward and firmly shook the hand on offer. In the back of her head, she tried to figure out whose story her opposite had heard about her and which version. Did she know her as Glinda: Elphaba’s acquaintance or maybe friend, Glinda: the candidate Pfannee and Shenshen would have preferred or perhaps Glinda: the girl who wasn’t good enough for the job they later hired Sarima for?

“Hi,” she replied a little belated. “Yes, it’s Glinda. Looks like you’ve heard of me. Well, and I have heard of you. I’m glad you’re having fun with Avaric,” she added with a wink. “I don’t think I would have survived working with him every day.”

To her delight, Sarima immediately jumped at the topic.

“I totally get that,” she agreed. “It’s just a guilty pleasure of mine to yank such pathetic guys’ chains a bit. If nothing else, it makes going to work a tad more interesting.”

“Good on you, but if it were me, it would drive me insane to the point where I’d go on permanent leave,” Glinda groaned.

The conversation went on a few more minutes, and Glinda silently congratulated herself for saving a potentially awkward situation.

They had wine, cake and the fruit sticks in the dining hall. Brrr was busy handling Chistery’s excitement for Glinda’s cupcakes, reminding him to remain seated in his chair about every other minute. Glinda was sitting next to Elphaba and opposite Boq. Sarima sat to Elphaba’s right. There was a lot of talk about work between the two women. Boq also occasionally piped up, but since he was not part of the same department, he mostly kept to himself.

At some point, he seemed to have noticed Glinda’s perhaps slightly lost expression. Leaning forward, he said, “I admit, it is still somewhat of a mystery to me how you and Elphaba got to know each other. Could you enlighten me?”

Casting Elphaba one final glance, Glinda adjusted her position to fully focus on Boq.

“Well, what has she told you?”

The question was delivered perfectly offhand, but in truth, a nervous flutter spread through her body. How much did Boq know?

“Only that you met at a job interview and out of nowhere” – he clapped his hands – “Best friends forever.”

She was a bit taken aback by the comment, but ultimately put it off as a joke. Shrugging, she cleared her throat.

“Well, that was pretty much what happened. If you’re looking for more juicy details, I guess I’ll have to disappoint you.”

His eyes narrowed and he thoughtfully tapped his finger against his lips. After a few clock ticks, he said, “I don’t buy it. I’ve never heard of anyone who made friends at a freaking job interview. It sounds absurd.”

Glinda swallowed, considering how much she should reveal.

“Fine, Elphaba invited me to have a coffee with her,” she admitted, waving her hand dismissively.

Boq perked up at that, looking pleased with his investigation skills.

“Don’t grin like that,” she snapped good-humouredly. “Before I went in for the interview, she poured coffee all over my blouse, I deserved an apology! There was nothing to it.”

If anything, Boq’s smirk only broadened.

“Did she also tell you that the spilt coffee was standard procedure? Does getting stuck in a lift ring a bell?”

“Yes, but… well, she-”

Glinda stopped herself there. Yes, of course, Elphaba had told her about Avaric’s instructions and sneaky methods of candidate assessment, but his grin disconcerted her.

“It’s just that this is the first time,” Boq continued, “that I’ve heard anything of an apology, let alone any form of reparation. What does that mean, you think? That you’re the chosen one?”

She could think of a few possible explanations right on the spot, mainly having to do with Elphaba wanting to return her ring without too much of a carry-on for others to witness or with Elphaba taking all the blame for the disappointing outcome of her interview. These were all no details she was comfortable sharing with Boq though, since her sexual orientation was the key to making sense of them and coming out so someone she hardly knew was something Glinda simply wasn’t going to do. Lifting her glass to her lips, she made a point of ignoring his queries.

The Munchkin studied her carefully and seemed to be drawing his own conclusions.   

“Alright, keep your secrets. I’ve heard women like to shroud themselves in mystery. But answer this one question for me, and please answer it honestly: Are you dating Elphie?”

“Wait, what!?” Glinda coughed out a little too loudly, spilling a few drops of wine.

For a split second, everyone’s eyes were on her, but thankfully, the moment passed quickly and the others went back to their own conversations.

“Was that a _no_ ,” Boq chuckled, “or the shock of being found out?”

“A _big_ no,” she intoned.   

“Oh…” said Boq contemplatively. “So, you don’t swing that way? Like not at all?”

Glinda exhaled deeply in frustration, but she never even had to think of an answer. Suddenly, the noisy clinking of porcelain and glass drew everyone’s attention to the centre of the table. Chistery had jumped up from his seat and was now sitting in the middle of the half empty pastry tray, stuffing his face with cupcakes.

To Glinda, the sight was almost droll at first, but she quickly realised that no one laughed or even chuckled. Watching the scene for a little longer, she too, could no longer find it funny. Chistery wasn’t a naughty pet, stealing some treats; he wasn’t an ill-disciplined toddler either. Animal or not, he was an adult and that meant, the only equivalent to compare his actions to would be a fully grown, young man jumping onto someone’s dining table because he wanted more cake. Given the circumstances, it wasn’t embarrassing as such, but evidence of the mistreatment and neglect the Monkey had suffered throughout his youth, evidence of how lightly they had disregarded his dignity.   

“May I?” Brrr asked, abashed, his ears tilted downwards.

Elphaba nodded and he slowly, unwillingly climbed onto the table. Cautiously, he put one mighty paw in front of the other. Getting closer to Chistery, he made a deep, calming purring kind of noise. The Monkey looked up abruptly and Brrr paused. When Chistery edged away from him, he sat down.

“Come on, pal,” he said quietly, “no need to turn this house into a jungle. There’s enough food to go around, I’m sure.”

Chistery replied with a wild shriek, flashing his teeth. Although Glinda spoke neither monkey, nor Monkey, she was certain that he was trying to say something along the lines of _‘only over my dead body.’_

Brrr furrowed his brow, producing a very low frequency growling noise. After taking a deep breath, he tried again nodding encouragingly. Alas, his attempt at persuasion failed. With another animalistic cry, Chistery jumped up, grabbed a few cupcakes and a skewer and made for the mantelpiece before leaping upwards, pulling himself onto the chandelier. Resigned, the big Cat heavily jumped off the table.

“Leave him be for now,” Elphaba suggested. “If we’re lucky, he climbs back down by himself.”

Sarima stood and began cleaning up the mess on the table. Boq quickly made to help her.

“You’re okay?”

Glinda jumped a little, previously unaware of Elphaba’s approach. She’d been watching Chistery, swinging on the chandelier as though it were a piece of playground equipment.

“Never a dull moment with these guys,” the taller woman said with a heavy sigh, but still sounding rather fond. “I hope, you’re not feeling too foreign amongst everyone? I realize I got quite distracted earlier.”

“It’s fine,” Glinda replied, waving the apology off. “Boq kept me entertained.”

She had meant nothing by it or at least she thought she hadn’t. Yet something in her voice or her expression seemed to have tipped Elphaba off.

“Huh… Perhaps, I shouldn’t leave you two alone too much.”

“It’s fine,” reiterated Glinda, eyes blinking rapidly as she looked away. “He’s just very… inquisitive.”

“Indeed?” Elphaba hummed, arching her brows.

A good while later, Chistery was still holding out on his lofty perch.

“Movie and popcorn are ready,” Boq announced from the doorway.

Elphaba and Brrr, both sitting on the floor, exchanged looks.

“I’ll get him down,” Elphaba finally decided.

She pulled herself to her feet and disappeared for a few moments. When she returned, she was carrying an aluminium step ladder on her shoulder. The ladder was erected on the dining table with no regards for the antique quoxwood. Before ascending, Elphaba instructed Glinda to climb onto the table top to secure the side rails.

Although it took some effort to remove Chistery’s vice grip from the chandelier, Elphaba’s mission eventually turned out to be a success. The Monkey protested ferociously at first, but Elphaba didn’t yield, tightly pressing him to her body and rocking him like a child. Watching affectionately, still sitting cross-legged on the table, Glinda wondered if she had done it all dozens of times before.

Brrr walked up to Ephaba and nudged her with his paw.

“The others are waiting. Shall I take over?”

Craning her neck, she looked at the Animal in her arms.

“He’s sleeping now. I think I’ll just keep him like this until he wakes up.”

“Has anyone ordered Pizza yet?” asked Boq when the small party had finally congregated in the small drawing room where the projector and screen had been set up.

“Nope, so thanks for volunteering,” Sarima replied grinning, snatching the bowl of popcorn from his lap.”

He sent her an annoyed stare but got up anyway.

“The flyer is pinned to the fridge,” Elphaba called after him.

“I know!”

Still carrying Chistery, Elphaba clumsily plopped down on the sofa. Sarima shuffled closer, feeding her a piece of popcorn. Glinda almost turned away, finding it strangely difficult to watch. She had no idea what Boq had been going on about earlier. If anything, it looked like Sarima was the one about to attempt a seduction of their green friend. She shrugged off her immature jealousy and took the last remaining seat on the sofa to Elphaba’s right. When Boq returned to find his original seat taken, he stubbornly sat down on the armrest next to Glinda. Feeling a little bad, she apologised and offered to swap, but he declined.

Someone had hit the play button and the movie started. It was a historical drama about the life and death of Ozma the Warrior which Glinda had seen and liked before, but for reasons beyond her current grasp, she found it impossible to focus for even one straight minute. She cast a side glance at Boq, who had his arm propped up on the backrest of the couch, leaning in her direction. She couldn’t fault him per se, as his seat must have been the most uncomfortable spot of them all but she still found herself shuffle away from him. Eventually, she, ever so slightly, bumped into Elphaba. The conversation with Boq still fresh in her mind, no matter how absurd it had been, this also made her uneasy and so, she backtracked an inch or two.   

Boq’s phone lit up and buzzed a couple of minutes later, and Glinda, grateful for the opportunity of a brief respite, immediately volunteered to get the food from the delivery boy. Someone, presumably Elphaba, had left out some money on the side table by the door, so she took the three boxes and tipped the kid generously. Before returning to the others, she grabbed some plates from the kitchen.

No one seemed to have moved at all by the time she re-entered the drawing room. She had at least hoped that Boq would have upgraded his armrest roost for the comfier seat on the couch proper. Having no good excuse to change her own seat as a result, she considered sitting back down where she had started, but she just couldn’t will herself to do so. Instead, she picked up a large pillow that had dropped from the couch to the floor and tossed it in front of the screen, next to Brrr. Grabbing a slice of chicken and cranberry pizza and a plate, she took up her new spot.  

The following two hours of the movie passed considerably faster than the first twenty minutes had. When their cinematic adventure had come to an end and the lights were turned back on, Sarima jumped up to search the laptop for some decent music. Boq convinced Elphaba to let him check out her wine cellar.  

Elphaba walked up to where Glinda was still lying on her pillow, head propped up on one hand, phone in the other to check for any messages from Fiyero or her flatmates in case they got worried again. She carefully managed to lower herself into a kneeling position.

“The others just decided to stay overnight. You’re very welcome to do the same.”  

Glinda looked up at her, uncertain what she wanted or how she should reply.

“You’re quite used to this then?” she asked out of curiosity and also to buy some time.  

Elphaba laughed.

“When you have so many guest rooms to spare, you fairly quickly get used to people spontaneously inviting themselves to extend their stay. We have boxes of cheap toothbrushes and travel sized tubes of toothpaste, stacks of bath towels, bulk packages of female hygiene products and several plain t-shirts in three different sizes. The beds are always made and there’s extra bottles of shampoo and shower gel in every bathroom.”

This revelation almost rendered Glinda speechless.

“No kidding?” she laughed incredulously and Elphaba groaned.

“I wish I were!”

At least Glinda now knew that her more or less accidental self-invitation had been nothing out of the ordinary for her friend.

“So?” Elphaba probed again, tilting her head expectantly.

Glinda cast a fleeting glance at her phone. It was pretty late already. If she were to decide not to stay, this was probably her last opportunity.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I think it would be better if I went home now.”

Nodding, Elphaba staggered to her feet.

“That’s fine.” Rearranging her hold on Chistery, she freed one hand to help Glinda up. “If you want to get your stuff and say your goodbyes? I’ll get the car out.”

Blinking, Glinda cocked her head.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m driving you, of course.”

She could feel the heat flush her face. It had never been her intention to rob the other guests of their host and then there still was that silly misunderstanding about her real address, which she was too embarrassed to resolve.

“B-but what about Chistery,” she pointed out, lightly touching his small, soft hand with her own.

“He’s out like a light,” Elphaba smirked. “I’ll put him to bed before we go.”

“I see.”

Glinda admitted defeat. While Elphaba went upstairs to tuck in Chistery, she collected her cake boxes from the kitchen and tossed them into the pastel pink paper bags.

Boq came in with a bottle of wine and something else.

“Absinthe?” Glinda read out from the green label.

“I always wanted to try this stuff,” he beamed, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Oh my, Master Boq,” she teased, shaking her head in amusement, “you’re more adventurous than I had given you credit for.”

“Well, to be honest, I have not quite made up my mind yet. I’m not sure if my curiosity will triumph over my voice of reason. At any rate, I do hope Elphie and Sarima and maybe Brrr will raise a glass or two. Should be interesting. And I myself would be much more inclined to give it a go if you were to participate as well, Glinda.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint, but unfortunately, I’m already on my way out.”

“Yes,” Boq said, visibly deflated, “that really _is_ disappointing.”

“Chin up, Boq,” Elphaba scoffed as she joined them, “the fewer drinkers, the more to drink. If the quantity is right, this high-proof sugar-water will most likely be all you need to improve your mood.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at the Munchkin, then motioned for Glinda to come with her.

They met Sarima in the hall. Brrr was upstairs to check on Chistery.

“Say _‘bye’_ to him from me, okay?” Glinda asked the Vinkun as she waved at her.

In the car, Glinda could feel Elphaba casting her quick glances whenever the road did not demand her undivided attention. She tried to ignore them, but in the end, her insecurities got the better of her. Exhaling deeply, she leaned back in her seat and turned to look at Elphaba properly.

“A penny for your thoughts?” she challenged, attempting nonchalance.

They came to stop at a red light and Elphaba used the opportunity to give her an extended, searching look.

“Did Boq bother you?” she asked as the car started moving again and Glinda knew she had to be careful how to formulate her answer.

“Not as such,” she replied, absentmindedly scratching at her already chipped nail polish.  “He is just very, well, inquisitive. And he seems to have little instinct when it comes to personal space,” she added.                                                                                  

Elphaba made a thoughtful humming noise.

Glinda watched her, studied her profile in expectation of an actual response. When none came, she turned to look out of the window. Her expression was one of indifference, but her fingers were drumming an agitated rhythm on the armrest. Now that she’d been forced to recall her interactions with Boq, she was reliving the uneasiness she had felt as well. She thought her reaction might be considered silly and childish and tried to will the inconvenient feelings to just go away.

Only, they didn’t. The tapping intensified, then came to an abrupt stop. Glinda gave in. Chewing the insides of her cheeks, she tried to look at Elphaba through the vague reflection in her window. She saw that Elphaba’s eyes still flicked back and forth between her and the road every now and then. Although she wasn’t verbally pressing for answers, she still seemed anxious to find out more and so Glinda decided to grant her wish.

 “You know, he said something very strange,” she told her, flopping back into her seat, eyes on Elphaba. She paused. “He thought… we might be dating.”

She  chuckled quietly as if she thought it was funny, but couldn’t help looking down fairly quickly.

Elphaba pulled over and parked across the street from Fiyero’s apartment building.

“He adores you,” she said slowly, her eyes still fixed straight ahead. “He probably asked to make sure he wasn’t butting in or maybe to assess his chances.”

“Oh.” Although Glinda might have suspected as much, having it laid out for her still made her uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat. “Do you… Do you think, I might have unintentionally encouraged him?”

“Hardly,” Elphaba laughed, turning her head to show Glinda her small, yet reassuring smile. “I doubt he’ll give up so easily though.”

Glinda nodded.

“Well, at least I know now to be on my guard next time we meet.”

  She looked up at Elphaba, who stared back blankly. Her heart started beating slightly harder. She was nervous, she realised. Not knowing what Elphaba was thinking, disconcerted her.

“I… will see you, when I see you, I suppose?” she offered with a faltering smile.

Elphaba shrugged casually.

“Give me a call if you get bored in between.” 

Encouraged by Elphaba’s offer, but mostly because she had been planning on it the entire evening, Glinda leaned on her right arm and, ever so slightly, lifted herself out of her seat to place a quick peck on Elphaba’s cheek.

“Good night Elphie,” she said, holding the other woman’s gaze just long enough to see the astonishment in them.

When she got out of the car, Elphaba didn’t follow. Glinda waved her goodbye and, after just a moment of hesitation, Elphaba started the motor, nodded at her and drove off. Glinda was pleased that she had evaded the embarrassing scenario of Elphaba waiting for her to whip out the key card that she didn’t possess, as this was not really the building she lived in. She also didn’t feel like seeing Fiyero that night, so, as soon as Elphaba’s black car was out of sight, she turned on her heel and walked to the nearest tram stop.

She thought back to that ephemeral, seemingly insignificant, kiss she had bestowed upon Elphaba. She was just the tiniest bit proud of herself for doing it, yet mostly, she was disappointed and frustrated. Rather than just a diversionary tactic, it had been an attempt to emulate the ease and comfort she had observed between Sarima and Elphaba. Glinda was fond enough of Elphaba to hope for some measure of intimacy in their relationship, yet physical nearness still put her on edge. That was especially true for kissing, even if it was just a small, harmless peck. She knew that there had been nothing to it, really. It should have come naturally to her. Unfortunately, it hadn’t. It had felt forced, like a dare, and truth be told, she didn’t even think it was something that would get significantly easier if she just _‘practiced’_ some more. The only possible conclusion was that she was a hopeless case.

* * *

 

The following morning, she woke up rather late, but still earlier than she would have preferred. Considering the customarily irregular public transport schedule at night, it was almost a miracle that she had made it back home soon after midnight. The apartment had been dark when she stepped inside, and the fact that the door to Crope and Tibbett’s room had been wide open, confirmed that she had indeed been the first one to arrive home. She had briefly wondered where the two boys might be, but her own curiosity came not even close to that of her flat mates, and so, she had not given the matter much thought.

Unwilling, she dragged herself out of bed, reasoning that there was no point prolonging the procedure if she already knew that she wouldn’t sleep another wink. Once she was semi-presentable, with her hair brushed and pulled back into a simple ponytail and dressed in her comfy but cute home outfit, she made her way to the kitchen.

Seeing the dining table occupied by not two but _three_ men took her by surprise and, suddenly feeling not well enough dressed, she stood rooted to her spot.

“Hi!” the admittedly good-looking man greeted her from across the room, lifting his hand for a fleeting wave.

“Hi,” Glinda replied somewhat meekly.

Now, she really felt compelled to meet him properly before grabbing her cereal from the kitchen. Tentative and anxiously tucking a loose strand behind her ear, she walked toward the small group. Tibbett grinned widely at her and it didn’t need much imagination for her to guess how that stranger had ended up at their apartment so early in the morning, having breakfast at their table.  

   “May I introduce the prettiest part of our beautifully queer trio,” Crope announced, “Korrell, meet Glinda.”

She had a little aha moment just then, but thought it more tactful not to acknowledge that she had heard of him before, especially considering the circumstances of the boys’ first encounter with him. Korrell, blissfully unaware of the way she was already judging him after mere two seconds of acquaintance, offered his hand for her to shake, his grin lopsided and dashing.

“Hey, how are ya?”

Glinda shook his hand because she saw no option not to.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied, simply out of habit.

“Interesting,” he remarked as he noticed the black ring on Glinda’s right middle finger. You’re ace?”

“Yes…”

Although his tone of voice had sounded fairly neutral, Glinda immediately felt apprehensive. She slowly retracted her hand and watched him carefully, while Korrell sized her up from head to toe.

“You’re not trans, are you?”

Glinda stared at him in perplexity.

“No, I’m not,” she answered stiffly, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re into girls then?” he tried again, his grin still in place, but looking less and less natural.

She realised what he was going for and summoning every ounce of strength within her, she pulled back her shoulders, making sure to answer truthfully, yet as provocatively as she could.

“As of now, I have never been in a relationship with another woman, nor do I expect to find myself in such a relationship in the future.”

Just as she had anticipated, his expression darkened. He worked his jaw and lifted his chin up, so he would peer down on the already short woman at an even more severe angle. His look spoke of nothing than absolute condescension. 

 “You have no fucking right then to call yourself queer, do you?” he concluded, his voice sharp and cold.

Although she’d tried to steel herself for this, Glinda’s chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. The sudden, so shockingly overt hostility hit her harder than she had hoped.

But Korrell wasn’t finished yet.

“You’re a cishet imposter,” he went on in the most accusatory tone, getting louder with every word. “No one gives a damn shit if you’re too frigid to get screwed. Stop calling it an orientation. And fucking stop whining for attention and acceptance in spaces reserved for those who truly face discrimination and oppression.”   

She clenched her fist when it began to tremble. This was the first time she’d encountered the hate she’d read so much about online in the real world and it wounded her more than she had always imagined it would. Strangely, his words struck a chord with her, made her doubt, even though she’d never before just remotely understood the acephobes’ position when she’d read entire exposés on the so called _‘discourse.’_ Somehow, she felt like she couldn’t successfully defend her own stance any longer, and so, she drew a different card in her campaign to justify her fellow aces’ place in the queer community.

“Well, tell _that_ to my friend,” she spat, although not quite as aggressively as she wold have liked, “who got disowned by his parents, his entire family, simply because they _do_ apparently give a toss whether he has sex or not.”

Korrell only sneered. Obviously, her argument had missed the mark.

“A guy who doesn’t want to bonk? That’s messed up. Has he seen a professional yet? We men have needs, instincts. It’s natural. Maybe he’s some kind of weird robot.”

She immediately regretted her mistake. Having involved Fiyero in the debate made it all the more unbearable. She blinked rapidly, hoping to keep the tears at bay. Her lungs seemed almost incapable of catching just the smallest breath. When she spoke next, every word seemed like a struggle for air and courage.

 “If you are so resistant to being disabused -” She swallowed hard. “- then I believe it is time you should leave.”

But Korrell wasn’t the least inclined to heed her request. Smiling confidently, he sat back down in his seat.

“Why do _I_ have to leave? I have hardly had any breakfast yet. But you may leave if you like. I won’t stand in your way.”

“I _live_ here,” Glinda cried, aghast at his cockiness.

“But since you’re not the primary tenant, you can hardly kick me out,” he goaded. 

At long last, one of the boys spoke up.

“No, she’s right,” Tibbett said firmly as he stood up.

Crope copied him. Although he said nothing, his expression was almost murderous.

Korrell’s eyes darted from Glinda to Tibbett, to Crope and back to Glinda. She stared back at him, praying he would finally leave before her resolve broke.

Her wish was granted. With an indignant huff, he rose to his feet and slowly walked towards the main door. He casually picked up the sports bag next to the shoe cabinet, slipped into his lace-less sneakers and opened the door. Not once did he turn back around. When the door snapped shut with a resounding _bang_ , he was gone.

The loud noise was followed by perturbed silence. Neither of the three dared to move. Glinda had closed her eyes in an attempt to calm the storming sea of emotions within. The boys exchanged worried looks, unsure how to proceed.  

 “Glinda…”

Tibbett was the first to open his mouth, but when she turned around and opened her eyes to meet his, she found she couldn’t take it.

“I’m sorry,” she snivelled, then darted off towards her room, furiously wiping at the tears that had started to roll over her chalky white cheeks.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

It was only a few minutes past nine, hardly more than half an hour after she’d first woken up, but Glinda already felt as though she’d been footslogging to the Deadly Desert and back. Alone and in the relative safety of her own room, Glinda found that she had no more energy left to spend on useless acts of bravado, as no one was present to witness them. It was only her left now to notice the tears that were running freely down her cheeks and chin, only her who would hear the quiet sobs, stifled by her pillow.  As proud as she would have been if she could have later said that Korrell’s words had not cut deep enough to wound her, she had already lost the strength to even pretend.

Perhaps, she had sheltered herself too much. Perhaps, if she’d talked to more people about her sexuality (or lack thereof), she’d have had a broader range of experiences and already learnt by now how to deal with negative responses, built up her immunity so to speak. Of course, she’d always taken a chance by wearing her ring, but it was a calculated risk, for she knew quite well, that only few outside the ace community knew about its meaning. She could barely have been more unfortunate to find one of those rare examples in someone as hostile as Korrell.

 When her tears slowly began to dry up, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her sight was blurry and her eyes felt raw and puffy. She was glad there was no mirror around to show her just how terrible she looked. Her head was almost empty now, heavy with exhaustion rather than thoughts, and like a lifeless doll, she stared blankly at the white wall opposite the window.

Eventually, she realised that her hands were less idle than the remainder of her body. Her fingers were playing with the little black ring on her right hand, twisting it back and forth, circling the delicate rose ornaments. She paused, then pulled it off her middle finger and held it up for closer inspection. She had to blink a couple of times for her eyes to adjust their focus to the small object. Fiyero had offered to buy it for her, around the time of their break-up.  In the end, she’d paid for it herself though, arguing that it was up to her to buy accessories meant to be worn as a form of self-expression. It hadn’t been too expensive anyway.

With one swift motion, she snatched the ring with her free hand and closed her fist around it. She jumped off the bed and rushed to her dresser, pulling open one of her messiest drawers. She dug a small hole between the scarves and gloves and winter hats and chucked the ring inside, covering it immediately and pushing the drawer shut with a bang. She wouldn’t take any more risks for now and who knew; maybe she was no longer in need of that ring. Maybe someone who passed so beautifully as an ordinary cis het shouldn’t try to draw such attention anyway.

In an attempt to distract herself, Glinda grabbed her phone and her ear buds from the desk. She found herself some good music and went through her social media accounts, checking for updates. At first that seemed like a good idea, since none of them were dedicated or even mentioned her ace identity. They were just about a somewhat short, but pretty, blonde girl in her mid-twenties with a keen interest in fashion - and architecture, but that was only apparent from that one side blog she’d never told her friends about. The longer she browsed through her profiles, however, scrolling past the more or less staged pictures of herself, the stronger her new conviction became that Korrell had been right to some extent.

With every post she read, with every picture she found, Glinda believed more and more that, although there were plenty of aces who truly deserved their place among other kinds of queer folks, she herself might not be one of them. She looked and behaved exactly like any other heterosexual girl she knew. She was even planning on marrying a successful, wealthy, sporty male and having his children, with the expressed goal to make her parents believe she was exactly the daughter they had always hoped for. How would her closeted, but advantaged life-style ever compare to the hardships other, openly asexual, members of the community might endure along the way?

Fiyero had lost his parents and the wealth he would otherwise have inherited – a sacrifice she wasn’t bold enough to make. Thousands of others were bravely opening themselves up for potential ridicule by readily announcing their asexuality to anyone who’d listen, but she avoided coming out to anyone, unless they figured it out themselves, Fiyero being the one and only exception to that rule. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, for admitting it hurt; but whichever way she looked at it, with so much straight privilege under her belt, Glinda found it hard to contradict Korrell.

She was still deep in thought, when her phone suddenly rung and vibrated. Caught so terribly off guard, she shrieked and ripped the ear buds out of her ears. She almost dropped the phone itself. Fiyero’s name was flashing on the display and Glinda was taken slightly aback, finding it somewhat eerie, that he would call this very moment, when she had just been thinking of him.

Her grip around her phone tightened. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, but no matter how much she wanted to accept the call and pour out her heart to him, she couldn’t. She felt like she had betrayed him, outed him to someone who was so outrageously disrespectful that he had dared to insult and dehumanize Fiyero on grounds of his lack of interest in sexual relationships. It hadn’t been her place to tell and it had been the wrong place to say anything to begin with. She’d been foolish to believe that Korrell could have been converted so easily. It should have been obvious to her that relating Fiyero’s story would only serve to make matters worse. Now, she felt like she had somehow abused her friend’s privacy.            

The phone stopped buzzing momentarily, then started up again when Fiyero tried his luck again. This happened two more times, until Glinda finally shoved it under the quilt on her bed to get the temptation out of her sight.

* * *

 

Spending all day in her room, mostly brooding, intermittently trying but failing to sleep, too sluggish to move to her chair and turn on the computer and too afraid to touch her phone, Glinda almost lost her sense of time. Eventually, the room was dipped in a golden and pinkish hue by the setting sun right outside her west facing window. It was an unmistakable clue that the day was drawing to a close, however, she had paid little attention to the exact time at which this usually occurred this time of the year.

There was a knock on the door and heaving a heavy sigh, she called for the boys to come in.

“Hey,” Tibbett said quietly as he slipped through the only half-opened door. Crope followed him, widening the gap a little for his tray to fit through.

“We thought you might like some of our risotto?” Crope offered, putting the tray down on the bed next to Glinda. “And some chocolate mousse for the endorphins.”

Glinda was grateful, she truly was, but could only muster a weary smile. Still, she picked up the spoon to sample to risotto; it was divine. She put the spoon down for the time being, but her smile improved a little.

“Thanks guys,” she said quietly, briefly making eye contact.

“Well, we figured you wouldn’t eat otherwise, so it was our duty as flat mates,” Crope explained solemnly.

“On top of that, we hoped it would make you more inclined to accept our sincerest apologies,” added Tibbett.

A small chuckle escaped her, but it was quite mirthless.

“What is there to apologise for?” she shrugged, her gaze still downcast.

“Bringing him here,” to begin with.

“Even though we couldn’t quite have known…” Crope’s trailed off when he noticed Glinda’s lips twitch nervously.

“He didn’t seem like a bad guy,” Tibbett explained rather than defended their choice to invite Korrell. 

Glinda shook her head, but didn’t quite feel like looking up.

“Of course, that wasn’t your fault. There are plenty of people who seem nice until you discuss certain topics with them. I suppose ace exclusionism never came up before, huh?”  

She risked a glance. The boys were both staring down on their hands.

“I wish we had jumped in earlier to defend you though,” Crope admitted sheepishly. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down next to her. “We were quite stunned by the stuff that was suddenly coming out of his mouth. We were shocked at the sudden change in his behaviour and I suppose, we were also a bit lost.”   

“Well, and your revelation also took us by surprise, to be honest,” said Tibbett, taking a seat on his boyfriend’s lap.”

A sense of shame overcame Glinda and a small voice in the back of her head chided her that it was all her own fault.

“I did mislead you there, didn’t I?”

She took a shaky breath and bit her lip, but Crope clumsily shuffled closer, balancing Tibbett on his knees, and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

“No, sweetie, that’s not what he meant. We were looking for a queer flat mate and you qualified. We never asked any questions and so, we foolishly jumped to our own conclusion.”

 Tibbett nodded.

“We’re only wondering why you never told us. Maybe not right away, but eventually? We’re all pals, right?” He hesitated, licking his lips and studying her face thoroughly. He frowned. “Did your boyfriend leave you when he found out that you’re ace?”

“No, that’s not how it was,” Crope immediately countered, believing himself to be in possession of all the relevant facts. “Fiyero is - “

“Also ace,” Glinda quickly cut him off. “That’s why we started dating in the first place.”

 Crope stared at her with wide-eyed confusion.

“What?” Glinda exclaimed, almost laughing beside herself. “I never said he’s gay, you once again just assumed he was.”

Tibbett’s questioning eyes darted back and forth between his flat mate and his boyfriend.

“A few days ago, we discussed Fiyero’s difficult coming out,” Crope explained to him, somewhat awkwardly. He turned back to Glinda. “And you knew _exactly_ what I was thinking,” he muttered, a little grumpy. “You just didn’t care to correct me.”

“I felt uncomfortable discussing it,” she dismissed his grumbling. “I hardly ever do. Other than you two, only Fiyero himself and Elphie know about me being ace. And Elphie was an accident. Like Korrell, only with a better outcome.”

“How did he even know?” both boys asked at the same time, then called “Jinx!” and grinned at each other.

Glinda shook her head at them, but allowed herself to smile a little.

“I assume, there is a fairly simple explanation for that,” Tibbett said. “Crope suggested he might be a clairvoyant of sorts.”

The boy in question rolled his eyes.

“It was a joke.”

“You’re right,” Glinda replied, burrowing her hands under her blanket, “it is fairly simple. It’s my ring. It’s a symbol that aces use to recognise each other: it can be any style or material, but it must be black, worn on the middle finger of the right hand. Even though I’m about as closeted as they come, I always considered it quite save to wear it, as its meaning is not commonly known among non-aces. I just got really unlucky this time, I suppose.”

Tibbett curiously reached out to lift up her hand and was disappointed to find it bare.

“I… I think, I need a break from accidental outings,” Glinda explained, averting her eyes. Crope nodded, while Tibbett pursed his lips thoughtfully.

Bringing her arms behind her back to lean on them, Glinda almost knocked over the tray of food the boys had brought her. She glanced at it and decided that she should eat the risotto before it went cold.

“Well,” Crope concluded their conversation, urgently prodding Tibbett’s side with his forefinger to make him stand up, “now that we are in the know, you could help us brush up on our ace knowledge a bit. And if there’s anything you want us to do or not do…”

“It’s fine,” she replied, smiling at her spoon. “I had a bit of a meltdown today, but generally speaking, my skin isn’t that thin. I can take the one or the other joke.”

“Good. As long as you let us know. And now, enjoy your dinner. You can just leave the dishes outside the door when you’re finished, and we can put them away for you.”

Amused, she quirked an eyebrow.

“That’s sweet. But I’m not an invalid. I’m sure that leaving my room and doing basic tasks would be considered therapeutic.

“And now, away with you two, shoo! I think I’ll quickly eat and after that, I’ll get ready for bed a little earlier tonight. I can’t show up at work looking like this.” She gestured at her face, her still red eyes and lackluster skin.

The boys obeyed her wish and exited the room, so she could have her peace and quiet.

* * *

 

Going to work the following day was a challenge for her. Getting out of bed already wasn’t easy, not to mention leaving the house, writing reports and meeting people. She had two client appointments that morning and one in the early afternoon, but somehow, she got through them without a hitch. It was a strange feeling, going through the motions without being entirely in sync with herself. It was like some weird sort of out of body experience, watching herself work and talk, rather than feeling the sensation of actually being the one doing it. She felt dazed, her eyes seemed unable to focused and yet, her brain and mouth still produced meaningful conversations, leaving everyone blissfully unaware of her bizarre state.

    Sitting at her desk, looking through spread sheets, she often caught herself rubbing her right pointer against her middle finger, irritated by the absence of the thin metal band that she’d gotten so used to over the years. It was distracting. When she went to wash her hands before lunch, she absentmindedly tried to slide off the ring. Of course, her finger was already bare and for a moment, she panicked, thinking she had dropped it somewhere. When she remembered why it was missing, she strangely didn’t seem to find much comfort in the realisation. She still felt the loss, only slightly differently.

Around quarter past four, Dayae came up to her cubicle, asking Glinda if she would join her for afternoon tea. The Munchkin’s usual break buddy was on sick leave, and she always found it awkward sitting in the cafeteria all by herself. Glinda only hesitated due to her foul mood, but Dayae’s famous collection of Munchkin-style tea treats proved too tempting in the end. In her mind, she argued that a good helping of sugar and chocolate would surely help lighten her spirits.   

 Glinda was on her third nougat and hazelnut brittle biscuit, still wondering if the sweets were actually having any effect, when Daye suddenly grabbed her hand, inspecting it with a confused look on her face.

“Hey, whatever happened to your ring? Did you notice it was gone? Have you lost it?”

Glinda froze. She swallowed, nervously wondering if she could somehow withdraw her hand without coming across as rude or erratic - or worse, arouse suspicion. She waited another moment before hesitantly pulling back.

“Yes,” she said, her voice too thick to speak clearly. She, as quietly as possible, cleared her throat and started over. “Yes, I believe I must have. I realised it this morning.”

“Oh, what a shame,” replied the slightly shorter brunette, reaching for Glinda’s hand on the table and intertwining their fingers, eyes still fixed on the nude finger. “It was so pretty, so unusual.”

“I suppose it was,” Glinda almost whispered.

  After the incident, she found it incredibly hard to return her focus to the task at hand. In theory, going home and putting the ring back on would not have been too difficult, of course, as it wasn’t truly lost. Yet, she knew that it would bring her little satisfaction. While she had long appreciated the ring as a pretty accessory, its main purpose had always been a symbolic one. Rather than losing the piece of jewellery itself, Glinda lamented losing the courage to wear it as a symbol of her identity. In her current state, she wasn’t confident enough to be confronted about her sexuality, not even by a fellow ace. She still hadn’t come to a definite decision whether or not she should even continue identifying as anything different than what others believed her to be.

       She jumped when the phone on her desk, buried under a pile of open ring files, came to life with a shrill ring. It took a moment or two for her to figure out what the unpleasant sound was and with some embarrassment, she realised how far her thoughts must have drifted. She couldn’t quite remember how to locate the device; it was used for internal calls only these days, since most other calls were handled using her mobile. Glinda hardly ever received internal calls.

Flipping over her stack of files, she finally found the phone, but also flung the handset halfway across the desk. Cursing mildly under her breath, she reached for it and pinned it between her shoulder and ear, so she could start tidying up the mess she had produced.

“Hello?”

_“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”_ It was Dayae’s voice, and she sounded genuinely apologetic, although that helped little to soothe Glinda’s incipient annoyance. _“I –”_ her voice had dropped now, just above a whisper, and looking beyond the half-walls of her cubicle, Glinda could see her cautiously checking her surroundings. _“I was just wondering whether you’re all right.”_

Glinda shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Remembering their earlier conversation, her fingers once again began rubbing against each other in search of the missing ring.

“Yes, I think… I’m fine, yes.”

_“Well, I noticed how you were just sitting there, staring into space.”_

“I did?” she replied, although she suspected playing oblivious might not work this time.

_“For at least an hour,”_ Dayae intoned and Glinda felt herself beginning to melt from the humiliation.

“Oh,” was all she was able to say.

_“You’re still sure you’re okay?”_

Glinda drew a shaky breath. She briefly glanced up and in her colleague’s direction.

“You’re right, I guess. I’ll go home  soon and tomorrow I’ll be as good as new.”

_“If you say so,”_ the Munchkin said after a brief pause, sounding not very convinced.

“Well, thanks for the wake-up call, I suppose.” She tried to laugh, but it came out rather faltering. “See you tomorrow.”

After hanging up the phone, she finished tidying the desk and began to put away her materials. She stuffed her laptop in her bag, together with one of the ring files and a small booklet. She would at least attempt finishing her work.

Walking up to her boss’ desk with her jacket already on and her bag under her arm, Glinda presented Mr. Nikidik with a fait accompli, telling rather than asking him that she was leaving early. While he wasn’t impressed, he had no good reason to refuse her.  

The tram left the moment she reached the stop, but she didn’t feel like standing around and waiting. Instead, she thought it might be nice to walk a station or two. Perhaps, it would help her to clear her head and, besides, exercise was known to help the body release happy hormones. Since the chocolate hadn’t helped as much as she had hoped, she was willing to try another method.

One or two stops easily became eight or nine and she soon lost track of how many more trams had passed her already. Walking further than she had initially intended was no decision she’d consciously made, rather it was the result of her wavering indecision of whether the walking was actually aiding in sorting out her mind or not.

Mid to late twenties, good-looking, rich, successful. Male. Over and over, she repeated these stats in her head. That’s what she was after, what she was _supposed_ to be after, according to her mum, her dad, her aunties and according to the majority of her friends. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know that she would have a really hard time finding someone exactly like that. And, hopefully, they would never have to find out. She’d just have to make it happen somehow.

Sure, she was pretty enough and definitely smart enough (although arguably too smart for some  candidates’ taste). She just was not quite allosexual enough. After all, what young, attractive, well-heeled high flyer would want to bother with someone so problematic? Unless she didn’t tell him, unless she kept it all to herself. A perfect pass: no one would ever suspect her to be anything less than normal. Not even her husband.

She wondered whether that would mean that she would cease to exist as an asexual altogether. After all, who could claim to be oppressed, judged or bullied on the grounds of being perceived as a perfect specimen of the human species? Not in a way queer folks were anyway. Among cisgendered heterosexuals almost all negativity was born out of jealousy and being a target of  jealousy only proved how fortunate one was.

Now this was all good and well, and she truly wished she could have left it at that, except for that nagging voice at the back of her head that quietly screamed at her that she just wasn’t that person. She wasn’t normal and ultimately, at the bottom of her heart, neither did she want to be. She was trapped between the desire to be exactly who she was and enduring the consequences and her plan of becoming someone who would do her family proud and live an uncomplicated life. The former, she felt, would affirm the label she had chosen for herself so long ago and help her justify her place in the queer community. The latter would make her exactly what Korrell thought she was: a wannabe who didn’t fit in with all those other LGBT people who did not have the luxury of blending in quite so perfectly with the heteronormative crowd. She hated the thought of proving that bastard right.

She gave up. Her head was already spinning and so were her thoughts. Her arguments only repeated themselves like in an endless loop, leading to nowhere. What she needed was someone to talk this through with, but the list of people whom she could trust with this matter was extremely short. There was Fiyero, whom she couldn’t talk to if she wanted to; the guilt over exploiting his example without prior permission still weighed heavy on her conscience. Crope and Tibbett were also part of her small circle of confidents now, but what did they know, being so new to all this? They would try to lend comfort for sure, but expecting their council would probably be too much to ask. That left Elphaba.

Elphaba. Glinda’s walk slowed until she came to a halt. The notion of involving Elphaba in this mess made her stomach churn with all sorts of emotions. She knew that the green woman would never question her aceness or her queerness, and that thought was comforting, of course. But she was still worried about being judged for her cowardice to truly live up to those labels. Elphaba simply seemed to have so much more courage than she herself could ever possess. She also was unsure in how much detail she would be comfortable to discuss her husband plans with Elphaba. For reasons she could not even name, it just felt wrong.   

Despite those and other trepidations she could hardly put in words, she took out her phone and made the call. After all, she needed help and however determined she was to find someone better suited for the task, there simply was none.

_“Missing me already?”_ Elphaba’s voice almost answered immediately after the calls had been connected.

The unexpected swiftness and boldness of the greeting rendered Glinda speechless for a moment. Given her already pre-existing reluctance, it was almost a miracle that she didn’t hang up on impulse. Elphaba immediately sounded concerned when the expected reply didn’t come.

_“Glinda?”_

“Hey, Elphie,” the blonde eventually responded meekly, which only served to worry her friend further.

_“What happened, Glinda? Are you all right?”_

Now Glinda almost felt stupid. Ultimately, nothing had really happened. Not today, not right _now_ anyway. She shouldn’t make it out to sound so dramatic.

“I was just wondering if you are free tonight?” She briefly bit her lip. “To… well, just to talk a bit.”

_“Sure,”_ Elphaba agreed without hesitation. _“I can pick you up after work if you want. I guess, I should be able to leave here in ten.”_

A twinge of panic made Glinda’s heart dither slightly. She didn’t want to have this conversation at Elphaba’s house or any other place her friend might propose. She needed a more neutral venue, ideally somewhere close to home, so it was feasible for her to return to her apartment whenever she wanted and without a chaperone. She looked around, for the first time caring where exactly she was, and remembered a small bar, situated in a side street, not far from her current location.      

 “I’m right outside the Corn Exchange,” she fibbed to avoid entering in any negotiations. “It’s a pub, sort of close to the Old West Gate. Do you think you could come here?”

_“Of course.”_ Elphaba paused. _“That’s almost on the opposite side of the city though, so allowing for the evening peak traffic, it could be up to fifty minutes or an hour until I’m actually there.”_

“Hm. Not a good idea then?”

_“No, it’s fine. That is, if you can wait so long.”_

For a moment, Glinda considered taking the tram towards the city centre, but then she’d most likely have to rely on Elphaba to drive her back home later, which would only complicate things further.  

“I’m okay with that, as long as you are.”

_“Anything for you, my sweet,”_ laughed Elphaba and hung up, leaving Glinda temporarily frozen on the spot.

The abrupt end of the call puzzled her, as did the term of endearment Elphaba had used. She’d laughed though, which meant that there was no reason to take her words too seriously. Surely, it had only been an attempt to cheer her up. Oddly, she found it difficult to say whether she felt reassured or disappointed at this.

Having nothing else to do, Glinda decided to go ahead and secure them a good seat at the pub before the after-work crowd swamped the place. It had been ages since she’d last been to the Corn Exchange, but it was all very much as she remembered. The stairs, which were designed to appear ancient and rickety, but were probably fairly safe, led from the inconspicuous entrance to the upstairs portion of the building, where the actual bar was set up. There were a few private booths, but mostly scattered tables, fashioned out of large, repurposed wooden wire spools, surrounded by cargo boxes that served as seats. Filled burlap sacs and even a few handfuls of spilt grain gave the impression that the Corn Exchange had never completely given up its original purpose. The windows were boarded up to keep out any natural sunlight and the number of cobwebs and the thick layer of dust suggested they were rarely cleaned. It was all part of the concept.

Although she herself favored the seclusion of the half-closed booths, Glinda thought that Elphaba might prefer the rustic style of the spool tables. She was certain, that the light was obscure enough to undermine the vibrancy of Elphaba’s emerald skin and the music was definitely loud enough to drown out any words that were spoken further than a metre away from the listener. In terms of privacy, it was the next best thing. The seat she ended up choosing also enjoyed the added benefit of a terrific view on the bar’s ornamental highlight: the mummified head of an elephant, it’s trunk wrapped around a bunch of withered flowers. Again, Glinda wasn’t really a fan, but was ready to bet her last penny that Elphaba would appreciate the weirdness.

It felt a little strange to sit there all alone and drink alcohol, but since she could hardly sit there for an hour or so without ordering, she decided that it would be fine for her to indulge at least in one small cocktail. As she was waiting for her drink, she tried to think of something to occupy herself with. After all the brooding she’d just done, she wanted to avoid more useless pondering before her new brain truster arrived. She began by, maybe needlessly, texting Elphaba the address of the bar. With any luck, it would help her to arrive slightly earlier.

* * *

 

In the end, Elphaba made it to the pub within the timeframe she had predicted, which was not a minute too early for Glinda. Having spent the past few minutes staring almost unblinkingly in the direction of the entrance, she’d spotted her green friend before she had noticed her and quickly waved her hand to get her attention.

Elphaba had evidently come directly from work and was still wearing her suit and austere braid. She fleetingly touched Glinda’s shoulder in a manner of greeting, then sat down opposite her.

“Interesting choice,” she commented after briefly scanning her surroundings.

“Well,” Glinda said, uncomfortably shifting in her seat. It unnerved her slightly that she couldn’t tell what exactly Elphaba was thinking. “I actually don’t go to bars a lot and this one just happened to be nearby and it’s a place I’ve been to before.”

Nodding, Elphaba concluded the small talk segment of their meeting.

“So, what’s up?” she asked. “You sounded upset earlier.”

Glinda blushed.

“Did I?”

She fiddled with her phone at first, then her handbag. A moment later, she shoved her phone into her bag in frustration and put the bag down on the floor. There was no point beating around the bush.

“I need your help sorting myself out.”

She could see Elphaba do a double take, her mouth twitching. She uncrossed her legs and rearranged them the other way around.

“I’m not certain I’m the right person for you to talk to,” she replied evenly.

Glinda’s hand darted across the table and grabbed Elphaba’s, almost as though she were afraid that her friend might just get up and leave.

“No, you’re the only person I could come up with, so please just listen, will you?”

She was somewhat embarrassed by the way she was begging for help and also somewhat concerned that it might have the opposite of the desired effect. Biting her lip, she slowly released her grip on Elphaba’s hand, casting her an apologetic look. But after just a clock tick or two, Elphaba cleared her throat and settled into her seat. Her hand remained in place in case if Glinda still had any use for it.

“Well then. Where shall we start?”

No matter how much her heart threatened to burst open with all the accumulated tension, the burning desire to share her distressing thoughts, it was still very difficult for Glinda to take the first step.

“You haven’t ordered a drink yet,” she heard herself say instead, groaning inwardly.

Elphaba chose a ginger beer; obviously, she’d arrived by car. Glinda decided that another cocktail might help her to overcome her nerves and also asked for a large bowl of wedges to keep herself from getting too drunk and to ensure that Elphaba wouldn’t starve over the course of the next hour or so.  

Once the waiter had left, she could feel Elphaba’s expectant look intensifying. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to spill her guts.

“I had a rather unpleasant encounter the other day,” she told her quietly, picking non-existent dirt from under her fingernails.

At first, Elphaba made the impression that she would say something, but instead, she settled for simply nodding, encouraging her to go on. And so, Glinda told her about all the hateful things Korrell had said and her subsequent coming out to her flat mates. As she talked, she observed that Elphaba had developed a sudden interest in her right hand and of course, she knew that she had noticed the absence of her ring. So far, there hadn’t been any comments on that yet, however.

“The worst thing,” she concluded, “is that I almost believe that he is right to a certain extend.”

She paused to look up and, as perhaps expected, saw Elphaba opening her mouth to protest, but she dismissively waved her hand.

“Naturally, all the rubbish he said about Fiyero was absolutely absurd, but… You know, I do feel like he’s got a point as far as I’m concerned.”

“No, you listen to me now,” Elphaba said, obviously done with just sitting silently. “That twat doesn’t know shit – not about asexuality, not about you… He’s heard some exclusionist bullshit and buys into it. His bad.”

“Of course, aces in general are part of the queer community,” Glinda allowed, “but Elphie, you see… my case might be just a little different than others’.”

This only earned her furrowed brows and a confused look from her friend.

“Well, look at me, I’m closeted as hell and what I haven’t mentioned to you before is that I have this plan. I… I sort of decided a long time ago that I’d find myself a guy - young, rich, sexy guy, you know – and then I’d marry him and we’d have children and I’d never have to tell my parents anything about being ace. Do you see what I mean? I’m doing my best to make myself look normal to others. No one needs to know. I’d just pass for your common pretty, blonde, normal girl, just like so many others. But in doing that, don’t I pass up on any right that I might have to identify as ace or even queer?”

“No,” Elphaba immediately objected rather forcefully. “You do want to identify as queer, don’t you?” she demanded.

“Yes, I’d like to,” Glinda replied, annoyed “but I’d also like to be a famous movie star. Pretending I am one doesn’t make it true though. Yes, I wish I could be part of that community, because otherwise I quite frankly don’t know where I do belong right now. But if people see me as a normal hetero woman, they treat me as a normal hetero woman. How can I justify mingling with and comparing myself to those who are truly oppressed?”

“Because being forced to shup up about who you really are and how you really feel is a form of oppression!” Elphaba insisted sternly, leaning heavily on the table to get closer to Glinda.

The petite blonde watched her uncertainly, trying not to shrink back in response to the intensity in her eyes.

“I’ve told you about my brother’s habits, haven’t I?” Elphaba asked as she slowly lowered herself back into her seat, giving Glinda the necessary space to proceed in the discussion with more ease. “He tries to hide his true self and it is destructive. It’s not doing him any good and no approval for his acted persona can make up for that. While different people in different situations might cope more or less successfully, it is my belief, that this strategy is never recommendable.”

She waited for Glinda to respond, but the blonde was too busy hanging on Elphaba’s every word to recognise her cue. So, Elphaba continued.

“You can’t tell me that everything would be automatically beautiful, just because you pretend to be like the majority of people. No. you’d still struggle, but you’d struggle all on your own, without much help from outside, because those struggles would be invisible to others. Life wouldn’t be much easier on the grand scheme of things, so all you’d be doing is putting up a brave front while fighting your battles all alone. That’s why you can’t let them bully you into believing that you are not worthy of the support of the LGBTQA community. Whether they are outsiders or other members of the community, if they make you believe that you have no right to identify the way you feel, they are oppressing you.”

  “That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” Glinda admitted. “I suppose, if I were to sit here with a friend, trying to answer the same question, that might be something I myself would tell them.”

“But you’re not convinced.”

Glinda was surprised at the matter-of-factly look on Elphaba’s face. She herself was confused as hell right now, but Elphaba seemed to somehow understand everything.

“It is difficult sometimes to apply principles that otherwise appear logical if it is to our own benefit. You have your general stance on one hand, but faced with conflicting points of view, you doubt yourself. You doubt whether you deserve to benefit that would result from your own, more favourable approach.”

First swallowing the big lump that had formed in her throat, then chuckling incredulously, Glinda couldn’t believe what her friend had just said.

“Yap, that pretty much sums it up,” she sighed, slumping heavily into her seat and shaking her head. “It seems strange for someone to understand myself better than I do. It’s like I didn’t realise this about myself until you just laid it out for me and suddenly, it all makes sense.”

She felt the annoying sting of tears in her eyes and wiped at them, trying to pass it off as a massage against an oncoming headache. Taking a few breaths, she collected herself before looking back up at Elphaba to study her.

“But you feel very much the same way, don’t you?” she realised, speaking the words as soon as they popped into her heat.

“That’s not relevant right now,” Elphaba deflected curtly.

Glinda thought it was and she wished she could ask Elphaba to confide in her in return, but the green woman’s posture had become strangely stiff, her shoulders square and her jaw muscles tense. She could plainly see, that tonight wasn’t the best time to turn the tables on her.

“You mentioned the struggles that I’d face,” Glinda said instead, resuming their original line of argument. “But I’m not sure if it would be so terrible after all. I do have Fiyero and you, and Crope and Tibbett, I suppose, to talk about my asexuality whenever it becomes really necessary. Why would anyone else have to know?”

“Well, that obviously depends. For example, do you intend to tell your future husband? If yes, it might make finding the right partner a little trickier than usual and others, especially your family, might become suspicious. If not, you will end up at a whole different level of secrecy.”

“I don’t intend to,” Glinda immediately replied firmly. “The type of guy I’m looking for is not the type who would be very likely to be familiar with the ace spectrum, and I don’t want to scare them off.”

“What about intimacy?” challenged Elphaba without missing a beat. “In a relationship like that, it will inevitably come to that. Generally, long before the wedding bells ring. I’m not saying it can’t be done, but how will you go about explaining certain, well, ‘ _quirks’_ you might have?”

“I don’t think I have that many,” Glinda answered somewhat shyly. “And I don’t think I’m _that_ … repulsed or whatever. I expect, I can get used to most of it? And at any rate, one doesn’t need to be ace to have such _‘quirks’_.”

Elphaba hummed thoughtfully.

“Fair enough,” she acknowledged. “But please consider this carefully. If you are so hellbent on keeping it a secret, you might end up living in constant fear of being discovered, and if you were to be found out, some people you hold dear might feel betrayed and accuse you of posing as something you are not. Just like that asshole friend of your flat mates’ did, only the other way around. It’s a risk you’re taking and you will worry about it and it might cause you a lot of stress, maybe anxieties. And that’s why you totally have the right to claim a queer identity if you choose to do so. Whatever part you decide to play, there are still things that make you different from the norm, that cause you anguish because of your otherness. It’s up to you, but the label is all yours if you only want it.”

Glinda was satisfied with that for the time being and thanking her, told Elphaba that she needed a while to think it all over.

 “Very good,” said Elphaba, “but please allow me just one more question. Why me? I mean, your pal Fiyero seems much more qualified to help you with this.”

“Because I feel ashamed. I shouldn’t have told Korrell about him and just thinking of the terrible, terrible things he’s said. I couldn’t even bear telling him about it all.”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” Elphaba told her quietly. “If it bothers you a lot, you should probably talk to him. I might not know him, but I’m still sure that, most likely, you will find that he won’t hold it against you.”

Although skeptical, Glinda accepted this piece of advice for now. She’d think about it later. Feeling that it was time to leave soon, she took her cocktail and emptied it swiftly.

“Elphie?” she asked timidly as she put her glass down. “Would you mind terribly much if I stayed at your place tonight? I just don’t think I could handle coming back to be bombarded with well meant questions and all that.”

“Sure thing,” Elphaba smiled.  


End file.
